


Milk Vetch

by kVader



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Time Lords & Ladies, Combats, Eventual Everything, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Jousting, Kings & Queens, Knight!Wade, Lord!Wade, M/M, Peter gets hurt but in all the right ways, Politics, Slow Burn, So cheesy it hurts, Some kind of war, StableBoy!Peter, The thirst is strong in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-02-25 20:56:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 70,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13221093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kVader/pseuds/kVader
Summary: When finishing the tournaments, a knight gave a flower to whom it had captured his heart as a sign of his devoted love.





	1. Nameday

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Vixen as always for helping me with the editing :3 and Spaz for the great ideas. I love you both <3
> 
> Happy New Year, you guys!

The wind moved the branches of the trees like waves, producing an almost cozy sound, like a whistle that called to nobody in particular, while the leaves fell towards the ground under the thick trunks. The grass was so tall that there was a whole world hidden under each leaf, and the sun was so high that the simple hood of his robe didn't cover much. 

Around his body the vegetation was crushed by the force of his weight, while he watched the light coming from among the trees above him and the sky so clear that the rain seemed far away. He was trying to create shapes in the clouds, raising his hand to draw over his head the figures he saw in them. A dragon, a cart, even a spider. 

He sighed smiling, feeling the heat projecting over his body from the lying position he was in on the grass. It was relaxing, and if he closed his eyes he could even fall asleep. 

"Peter!" the boy turned his gaze to the source of his name, with one eye still closed and smiling when he found his aunt with her hands on her hips and looking at him severely. "How many times do I have to call you for you to go and comb the horses?" 

Peter sighed and stood up to stretch his back while a big yawn interfered with his words. "I don't understand what is the big deal with the horses," he said, cleaning his clothes. "Just yesterday I brushed them, and that's a task that I have to do twice a week, not every day." 

His aunt rolled her eyes, wrinkling her face when she saw how dirty her nephew was. "The king himself asked for the cavalry to be in perfect condition," she replied, walking towards the castle again. "The Lords and their heirs come today, and there are new ones, especially the new member of the Howlett family, Lords of Lupine, the young man is an apprentice and the Lord's adopted son." 

Peter chuckled behind her as he followed the path. "You seem to have studied the future lord" 

"Of course," she said almost indignantly. "He became the successor to the trone of Lupine after Logan's son committed those crimes." 

Peter rolled his eyes as he ran his hand over his disheveled hair, trying not to trip over any stones on his way to the palace. "I bet he's just as smug as everyone in his class." 

May shrugged, picking up the skirts of her maid's dress to walk more easily. "The Howlett family is known for their humility," she stopped to glare at her nephew who suddenly sneezed from all the dust and pollen. "At least Lord Logan, because his brother is as petulant as the others." 

Peter laughed at the look May gave him. "And this heir was raised by which of the two?" 

"Logan, of course," his aunt finished, opening the small gate that gave access to the employee area at the castle. 

"Of course," Peter said sarcastically, shaking his head and passing under the stone arch above the gate. 

May started to head to the kitchen where she had to continue with the preparations for the royal dinner to be held that evening, and Peter went to the other side, where the stables and combat practice areas were. Then he heard his aunt shout. 

"And comb the filthy horses, boy." 

Peter rolled his eyes, smiling as he gave a small reverence. "Yes, ma'am." 

May huffed irritated, before continuing on her way, and Peter laughed doing the same. With his feet he kicked the dry leaves on the ground, and with one of his hands he was feeling the porous irregularities of the stones that formed the limit around the castle. 

Once he arrived at the stables, he took his brush and began to gently comb each hair of the five horses the King owned, not requiring much work because he had done it the previous day. 

"But the King demands it," he continued complaining to Ben, the white steed who was always nice to him, and to whom Peter had named in honor of his deceased uncle. Although the king didn't know that. "Everything the king says must be done." 

"Talking to the horses again, Pete?" 

Peter snorted and turned to smile at his best friend Gwen, who was carrying a tray full of water. 

"At least someone has to listen to me," Peter said, scratching the animal's jaw. "And who better than Ben, right boy?" He kissed the horse, who neighed in response. Peter chuckled and moved to the next one. 

"The king requested our presence tonight," Gwen commented, emptying some water inside the pond in the stables. 

Peter shrugged "The King always wants us to work day and night." 

"Well yes," Gwen admitted. "That's what he pays us for." 

Peter let out a snort, taking the clean hull and a small stool to clean the horses' hooves. "Well, they don't pay me enough." 

Gwen shrugged and Peter laughed, the girl then went out to pull the fresh straw she had brought and accommodate it in each stud, while Peter cleaned the remains of mud and dirt from the heel to the clamp. 

The first feast would be held that night, to celebrate the _Nameday tournaments,_ where King John. J. Jameson would pass his throne to his eldest son, Prince John Jameson, whose name was the same as his father's because the King was sufficiently narcissistic. 

The guests came from all over the world to celebrate the new successor, who was also close to his twenty-fifth day of the name, two more than Peter. Each one of the houses left their labors to come to Klariono, the capital city of Diurnus, for several days in order to kneel in front of the new successor to the King. Without leaving aside the alcoholic drinks, dances and jousts to demonstrate their courage and power. 

Or as Peter likes to refer. A simple excuse to drink, have sex and demonstrate their pathetic manhood. Although he had to admit that the tournaments always caught his attention, the colors, clothing, the weapons and armors, and most importantly, the horses. 

"I'll leave your clothes on your bed," Gwen said, interrupting his thoughts. "The one you're wearing right now is dirty, and to serve the food you must be impeccable." 

Peter rolled his eyes, to which Gwen laughed and sat next to him. "You know the Lords and heirs come with their Maesters, right?" Gwen stuck her shoulder against Peter' suggestively, leaning down to whisper. "Some will probably drink a lot and leave their tools neglected, which will give us total freedom to make experiments." 

Peter snorted, lowering one of the horse's legs, and getting up to continue with the other. "Jameson could kill us." 

"Not if he doesn't find out," Gwen interjected, wiggling her eyebrows and walking towards the stable's exit. "Don't stay here too late." 

"Yes mother," Peter answered with a laugh, earning a glare from his best friend. 

~ ° ~ 

After an exhaustive body cleaning, executed with the help of some water stolen from the kitchen and an old rag. Peter put the new blue [ganache](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cc/a5/e7/cca5e7254c06745bba3431ef7f4d4a30.jpg) over his white wool interiors, leaving the dirty one aside to wash it the next day. Then he took his long black boots, sticking one of his legs into it as he jumped into the kitchen with the other one. 

Peter entered carefully, crouching in between the employees until he reached Miles, his apprentice. "What did I miss?" 

Miles shrugged, still looking to the front. "Nothing much, almost everyone has assigned tasks." 

"And I want ten people in charge of the wine and food." A throat clearing was followed by a, "Peter, you're late. As always." 

The servant wrinkled his face when he heard his name, nodding and adjusting the hood on his shoulders. "Sorry, I was in the stables." 

"Mhm," said the woman in charge of the employees, looking them up and down and rolling her eyes when she noticed that Miles wasn't wearing his belt. "At least teach your pupil how to dress." 

Miles glared at her and opened his mouth to object, but Peter covered it with his hand, "Yes ma'am." 

The last guests were arriving as their tents rose, some had arrived days before but their presence in the palace could be given until all the guests had arrived in the kingdom. The last ones were the Howlett, who had arrived that same morning, or at least that's what his aunt had said. 

The main hall was decorated from top to bottom, with the banners of all the houses and their respective colors by area. The lanterns and chandeliers were lit, the tables and chairs were cleaned and varnished the day before, and the royal chair was polished so that the gold would be visible to everyone who sat lower. 

One by one the most important guests were arriving, Lord Tony Stark of Ferrum, Lord T'Challa of Wakanda, Steve Rogers of Winghead, who was coming with his best friend and royal commander, James Barnes, who all rumored was actually Lord Roger's lover. Lady Natasha Romanova of Nigrum Viduae, who still didn't want to marry despite the many declarations of love, and with whom King Jameson planned to marry his son. Sir Samuel Wilson, heir of Falcon. Lord Robert Bruce Banner of Harkanon. And last but not least, Lady Vanessa Geraldine Carlysle, whose father sent her alone, since her only duty was to marry the adopted son of the Howlett. 

There were many more houses, but their names were not as important, or they wouldn't arrive until the next day for the jousts, as was the case of Sir Vision and his wife Lady Scarlett of Cleri Gemma. 

All the employees wore their completely clean and freshly embroidered garments, as well as each utensil and dish was polished and washed with care. Cups, vases and silver platters. Silence reigned in the kingdom, while the welcome was given at the gates of the castle. 

Peter was sitting outside the kitchen in a chair next to the back door. He was sharpening one of the knives while watching a boy and a girl playing knights. Their swords were made of wooden sticks, broom handles to be exact, and the two of them were running through the grass, throwing vigorous thrusts and blows. The boy was a scrawny kid who wore muddy leather clothes, and the girl, who was a little taller, was the one who launched the attacks, and more than once the boy fell to the mud. 

On one occasion the boy threw a sharp retort, which the girl stopped with her stick. She made a sweeping movement; Her stick descended and hit the boy a hard blow on the hand, to which he screamed and lost the weapon. "You need to be patient," Peter shouted. "Don't neglect your defense." 

"Peter!" With a jump Peter returned to reality, turning to smile at his aunt, who laughed, shaking her head. "Go back to the kitchen, they need your hands." Peter sighed, standing up and handing the knife to his aunt, who gave him a cheery pat on the shoulder. 

The kitchen was crazy, with employees running up and down and dishes echoing all over the place. Someone handed Peter a tankard with wine, and began to push him towards the door, not even giving him time to ask if the guests were already seated. 

Once the door closed behind him, Peter walked down the corridor that led from the kitchen to the grand hall. With gray marble walls and white columns decorated with polished vegetation on the stone. Peter peeked silently into the dining room, where everyone was already seated at the tables, each house under its respective banner, all facing the King, who had just finished his welcome speech. 

A great round of applause and a roar of "Good and prosperous life to the new king" was what gave the signal to bring the first dishes and for the minstrel to begin with his chants. Peter entered with his back straight and silent as it should be, offering wine to lords and ladies who paid no attention to his presence. 

"That son of the Howlett, I think he's sick," commented a woman in a conniving tone.

"Yes, it's probably contagious," agreed a man by her side. 

"Logan surely adopted him out of sheer pity." 

"Of course," the man finished. "But he should have more decency than to bring something like _that_ here." 

_'The Howlett boy'_ Peter thought, raising his head to the front to look for him, but he could only see his back for the heir was standing in conversation with Sir T'Challa. 

The young man wore a cloak and his hands were locked in black leather gloves, so Peter was unable to detect any signs of illness. 

"Hey boy, bring me wine," Peter looked at his side and noticed old Lord Fury with a patch over one of his eyes, although with the other one that was clearly visible, he gave Peter a withering look. The boy smiled shyly and hurried to his side to serve what he asked for. 

The night went by busy, wherein the middle of each meal the couples got up to dance and converse with those who were further away from their position. Peter managed to see Lady Carlysle conversing with Lady Romanova, and only once saw her dancing with who would be her future husband. 

On more than one occasion Peter had to dodge the pranks of the new King's friends, among them Eugene, who always seemed to want to make Peter's life impossible. And by the end of the night, Peter was exhausted. 

Serving wine was a task he hated because people usually overdid it when they were drunk, and even more when they saw that Peter was the one who served them the reason for their tangled tongues. Sometimes Peter could even feel hands touching his lower body and demanding more wine, and even when Peter turned around to show he was a man, the drunkards just smiled with what they thought was a lovely smile. Peter just wanted to erase that expression with one of his fists. 

In other cases they vomited him, shouted expletives, or when he realized, he was in the middle of a fight, and if he didn't move away he could end up being part of the feast. Yes, Peter hated serving the wine, but he also appreciated the silent moments he got when he could go back to the kitchen to ask for the tankard to be filled again, where he stretched his feet and cracked his shoulders while he waited. 

Sometimes they took a little longer than usual, maybe on purpose because they knew that Peter was grateful for those little setbacks. 

But then it was time to go back, and the tankard was completely full again. Peter placed one hand under it, and another holding the metal handle, with the utmost caution so that the wine wouldn't spill as he left the kitchen to the corridor. He opened the door with his back and with his eyes still glued to the wine. 

"Careful!" It was very late when Peter heard this, because he simply felt the bump when he hit a mass of muscles, and then the wine was no longer in the tankard but on the clothes of one of the guests. 

Peter felt his skin freeze, quickly taking the cloth that rested on his shoulder to pass it over the person's chest, who jumped as if Peter had hurt him. Peter winced by this reaction, knowing full well that he had ruined everything and now Jameson would probably fire him without his payment because obviously, that would be the first thing his King would take away from him. 

"I'm so sorry," Peter said, looking up and finding scared eyes, belonging to the object of the night's rumors, whose skin was severely scarred. Sir Wade looked at him as if expecting something, Peter supposed that maybe a better apology because that white shirt was probably freshly embroidered and Peter had already ruined it. 

The servant took the heir by the hand, who tensed under his grip and Peter felt even more embarrassed for not asking if he was or not allowed to take him by the hand. "Er, sorry," said the servant, clearing his throat and pulling Wade towards the kitchen. "With this cloth I can't clean you very well, and maybe if I wet it the result will be a little better." 

The young Howlett said nothing, just let himself be carried away by Peter's rambling into the kitchen, where some employees were preparing the plates with food to take to the dining room. When the servants saw Peter and Sir Wade enter, the three of them gasped, looking at him in surprise and with nervous eyes as they quickly left the kitchen. 

Peter didn't even pay attention to them, taking Wade to where the vases with water were, where he dipped a new cloth and began to run it over the chest and belly of the royal guest, who didn't stop looking at him as if Peter were crazy. 

"I'm really sorry, sir, it was a stupid mistake," Peter said, biting his lip and trying not to wrinkle his face when the stain instead of disappearing, expanded. Sighing he looked up, finding a pair of blue eyes that seemed surprised. They were very clear, so much that they almost seemed made of water, and the light of the fire in the torches did nothing more than give them life, like recently polished armor. Peter thought they were beautiful, and then he realized that he had been looking for a long time, so he decided to continue with his initial task. 

"I can go and bring you a new robe," he offered, clearing his throat and grabbing another dry cloth because now there was a puddle on the heir's built body. "You can tell me which is your royal tent and I could go and bring you one in less than two rings of the church bells." 

Wade then blinked several times and shook his head, as if coming out of a trance. Then he looked down, where Peter's hands were still, one with the cloth and the other simply resting on his stomach. "You're not afraid of me?" The young man asked for the first time, looking at Peter straight in the eyes again, but this time trying to hide his face from the look of the humble servant. 

Peter frowned and shook his head. "Why should I be? So far you've been the only one who has treated me with respect throughout the night, and the only one who could rightly have hit me for what I did. As much as I try, your shirt is already damaged." 

"How much do you get paid for lying so beautifully, Baby Boy?" the heir interrupted, to which Peter frowned deeper, looking at the other questioningly.

"What are you talking about, sir?" 

Sir Wade snorted and shook his head, which he dropped next to his gaze and began to move toward the door. "Thank you," he murmured, before leaving the kitchen. 

Peter stared a moment at the now closed door, while in his hand was still the cloth stained with wine. He didn't understand what had just happened because Sir Wade had no reason to thank him. All Peter had done was spill wine over him.


	2. The Jousts Part I

Her hands were soft and loving, each caress and action were signs of pure affection that only a mother could give. 

His hands were hard and cold, each blow and rejection were signs of hatred and resentment. 

That had been Wade's childhood, his parents were like water and oil, while his mother was the image of the goddess with the same name, his father was the opposite. Then his mother died, and his father went crazy, to the point that his own people set fire to their house. Hence the marks on his skin, despite the many diseases that people attributed to him. 

It was then that Wade met Logan, an old friend of his mother's. There was more to it than Wade was going to ask, but the mere fact that Logan received him as part of his family, made it clear to Wade what kind of relationship his mother had once had with the then elder son of the Lord of Lupine. 

Wade had just celebrated his sixteen day of the name back then. Eleven years had passed, and now Wade was lying inside the royal tent belonging to the Howlett family, of which he was now a part in the eyes of the gods and all who witnessed Logan's decision to adopt him as a son. 

A sigh escaped his mouth while the crickets sang outside. The feast was not over and the sunlight was about to come out. Logan had entered the tent at dawn, with a barrel of rum under one of his arms and untidy hair. He gave Wade a single glance. "Are you okay?" 

Wade nodded, he didn't know what to think so far, and maybe telling Logan about a cute servant who spilled wine and then tried to clean him without any trace of disgust on his face or voice would not be a good idea. Mainly because Logan wasn't a great conversationalist, or because only the rum Logan carried under his arm made it clear that the Lord only wanted to drink in peace. 

"I was tired," Wade said, and it was not entirely a lie. Listening to people talking behind his back was definitely exhausting. For that, he already had his brain. Logan nodded, lifting the barrel a little more before closing the curtains of his bedchamber. 

The difference between Lupine and Klariono was that in Lupine the days used to be humid, the sun went out little in the mornings depending on the season, and the afternoons were usually filled with clouds that were dropped from the sky to decorate the earth. Those were the Howlett family's favorite moments, where hunting was easier according to what they said, because their wolves attacked better and their prey weakened. 

In Klariono, on the other hand, the sun went up early in the morning, the sky was clear, birds sang and it all seemed made up by a famous storyteller. Even the nights were clear, and Wade wanted to think that maybe all that was the work of a young servant who took care of horses and poured wine over the guests. Because there was no other explanation. 

Wade decided to go for a walk through the royal streets, covering his head as he always did. Outside, wagons and horsemen were still crossing the castle gates. The patio was a chaos of mud, with horses and men shouting. Wade had the sudden feeling that he was out of place there, in that spot, with those men and their banners. Logan had once told him, "Sitting on the throne is surrounding yourself with imbeciles and hypocrites." Looking around, Wade could guess who was what. 

Once outside the castle, the heir observed in silence how the capital city took life. Fishermen enlisting their boats, while their wives and daughters stayed on the dock preparing the stalls. The brothels were gradually removing their last clients, while the girls; and even young men, were barely covered with their dresses of linen and silk. 

The troubadours continued to sing their legends, and the jesters were burned under the morning sun after a night of jokes and lots of alcohol. There were merchants in the plaza announcing their products, using fairy tales as a means to call the attention of passers-by. Also, blacksmiths who worked in their open-air forges, mercenaries bargaining for coats of mail, and gray merchants trying to sell swords and knives. 

"Would you like to know your future, young man?" 

The hoarse voice came from an alley beside the brothel, a small stall filled with purple, pink and orange silk curtains. A woman with stained and wrinkled skin; probably a product of the sun, and who wore a black silk scarf over her head, was the one who spoke. "The price isn't high, depending on what you want to know." 

"No, thank you," Wade answered curtly, covering his head even more with his cloak. 

"I could help you," the woman continued, showing a smile that lacked certain teeth. "A servant, brown hair and hazel eyes that shine with his smile." 

Wade didn't say anything, just watched the woman. Many times rumors ran, anyone could have seen Wade with the young man, and even a blind man could have deciphered Wade's reaction. Pathetic in his lack of physical contact, he fell in love with just a small show of affection towards his person. 

"Wealth awaits you," the woman continued, stretching a hand full of silver and golden rings, probably false, as well as the red and blue gems that adorned them. "But you already know that. What matters to you is something else. I can tell you." 

Wade looked around. No one was watching them, the people of the city were too busy with their own tasks to pay attention to a stranger and an old witch who was probably crazy, but whom Wade would probably listen to anyway. It was not like he was going to sell his soul, he would simply lose a couple of golden soles. 

Wade cleared his throat and sat down in front of the woman at her round table covered in velvet. The witch kept her wrinkled hand stretched out, watching Wade with those eyes, black like the veil that covered her head. "You must give me your hand." 

"Do I have to take off my glove?" Wade hesitated, running his fingers over the leather on his hands. 

"Your appearance doesn't matter to me, but I must feel the palpitations in order to understand what your destiny is telling me." 

Wade snorted at that, nice words to cover a scam. Then he looked around again to make sure no one saw him. The woman in front of him laughed at that, to which Wade simply glared at her and removed his glove from his left hand, placing it bare over the woman's. The witch smiled, turning Wade's hand so that his palm was looking at the sky, and with the nail of her other hand's index finger she began to feel the lines of his palm, which were almost impossible to see under all of his scars. 

"You like talking a lot, don't you?" The woman asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, to which Wade shrugged one shoulder. 

"So far I haven't talked much, what's your reason for complaining?" 

"It's what your hand says," she explained. 

"Tell me something I don't know." Wade was beginning to feel uncomfortable at the contact with his bare skin, but the woman held him tighter. 

"There was already an affair with whom you have to get married." 

"And it didn't work," Wade admitted. "You told me you were going to talk about brown hair and hazel eyes, what are you waiting for?" 

"Patience, young sir," the witch smiled, showing a silver fang where there had been no tooth before. Wade frowned, but before he could ask, the woman continued speaking. "The path will have obstacles, but in golden you'll seat. Your own heart will try to betray your mind and words'll sound like honey threading in your ears, but when the sorrows start drowning you, a white ambrosia will be your freedom." 

There was a moment of silence after that, in which the woman let go of Wade's hand and adjusted the sleeves of her blouse. "It would be ten soles." 

Wade opened and closed his mouth for a moment, watching the woman who responded with a disinterested expression. "Are you joking, that's not clarifying anything, you just invented those words." 

"Ten soles," the witch repeated, stretching her hand. 

Wade muttered under his breath about how bad it was to swindle people under the eyes of the Gods, but he still paid the woman as it had been entertaining. Then he stood up while the darkness in the woman's eyes watched him, smiling with that new silver tooth that shone under the sun. The heir began to walk, placing the glove back in its place, when he heard the witch shout. 

"Even hazelnuts have predators, it depends on your courage to catch it first." 

Wade turned confused, to advise the woman that it would be best for her to stop using her spiritual herbs, but where the witch had been a moment ago, now there was just an empty alley and a black cat watching him silently. Wade decided to simply continue his path and ignore the chill that ran through his body. 

~ ° ~ 

The morning was sunny and not too cold, as they usually were in Klariono. Although the wind was common in the city, that morning it decided to decay to give more work to Peter and the rest of the employees. 

"Don't you think it would be funny if at some point someone let go of the leaf and it falls over some lord?" Miles asked with a mean laugh, as he looked at the large [licuala grandis](https://myjunglegarden.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/Licuala-grandis-leaf.jpg) that rested on his hands. Which they would use to give some fresh air to the guests. 

"The more you want it, the faster it will happen to you," Gwen said, to which Miles gave her that look that screamed _boring_ , and she as usual, simply winked at him. Peter laughed at their side, leaning down to whisper at Miles in his ear. 

"It would be funny if it fell on Eugene." 

Miles let out his approval with a snort, and Gwen showed what she thought of the both by rolling her eyes. 

"Silence!" The head of the employees ordered, glaring at Peter and Miles. "Stand in your positions, the guests are on their way." 

Miles and Peter stood under the roof of one of the balconies facing the arena, waiting with their licula in hand for each of the lords and ladies to occupy their specific place. Peter was under the banner with the emblem of a cat's eye surrounded by stars - Lady Vanessa Carlysle. In that same terrace was one with a spider known as the black widow, devouring the head of its weak rival - Lady Natasha Romanova. 

Beside them was the standard of the Howlett, the crest of a wolf with the full moon behind it. Peter was afraid to see Sir Wade, especially after the night before and how it ended, but still he had to do his duty. And in any case, why should a prince like him remember a humble servant like Peter? 

The first to arrive were the representatives of Lord T'Challa, wearing a black satin sleeveless surcoat with the undergarment made of silver, and a chain of the same tone, shining long and stopping at their sternum; it had the emblem of House Chaka. The head of a black panther with claw-shaped diamonds under it, made with vibranium. Lord T'Challa would probably participate in the jousts and that's why he was not present. 

After them came Lord Anthony Stark, who wore a red velvet robe, with golden lines and circles embroidered on the doublet. He wore informally on his shoulder a short coat of gold thread, pinned with a blue aquamarine gem, representing the iron heart of the House Stark. Next to him was not only his royal guard, but a young woman with blond hair that fell to her waist. Probably from the brothel. 

Lord Bruce sat in the same gallery, with his green cotton suit, simple as was typical of the House Banner. His royal guard was small, only one man accompanied him, but this one was so big that he didn't need more. 

Each one was taking their place, even Lord Vision and Lady Scarlett gave their presence, wearing suits of high value, with silks from the east and gems of their own island, known for its richness in precious stones. 

Along with the young Princess Vanessa sat Lady Natasha, both forming a conversation as soon as they were together. The young Carlysle wore a light blue satin dress with white embroidery. On the other hand, Lady Natasha wore a long dress with sleeves tight to the elbow, where they released to fall long to the sides. The lower part of their dresses, the neck, and the borders of the sleeves were trimmed with ornamented bands, and the waist was encircled by a girdle just above the hips. Both with a not so discreet neckline. 

Finally, the Howlett house came in, Lord Logan taking his seat and ordering a drink as soon as he did. Accompanying him were his men, who wore layers of thin gray wool with white silk trim. The closures were pins in the shape of a full moon and a silver wolf, which identified them as members of the House and guard of Lupine. 

Vanessa greeted Logan, who simply raised his cup in acknowledgment. The heir of Lupine was nowhere to be seen. 

Next to Lord Howlett sat his maester, a man with a kind face, on which no strands of hair bordered the wide white dome of his forehead. His maester's necklace was not a simple metal choker, like the one worn by the maester of Princess Vanessa, but it consisted of two dozen heavy chains, linked so that they reached to his chest. The shackles were of all known metals: black iron and red gold; bright copper and matte lead; steel, zinc, silver plate, brass, bronze and platinum. He had crimsons, amethysts, black pearls and, here and there, an emerald or a ruby. 

Peter was impressed, he could barely imagine the kind of knowledge and tools that man knew and possessed. 

"The prizes will be as follows," read the herald, drawing the attention of all present. In his hands was an announcement written by the king himself. "Forty thousand soles of gold for the champion, twenty thousand for the second, another twenty thousand for the winner of the hand-to-hand combat, and ten thousand for the winner of the archery competition." 

"Ninety thousand pieces of gold," Logan concluded mockingly. 

"Plus the rest of expenses," his maester reminded him in a lower tone so they wouldn't be heard by the others. Peter, who was relatively close, could hear perfectly. 

"That stupid boy," Logan snorted. "I'm impressed that his father hasn't interfered, there's no man more niggardly than James." 

The new king arrived extremely late, he was the last to arrive, being announced by trumpets and bugles. He wore his big, golden crown on his newly combed hair, as on his shoulders was a gold robe fastened round the waist and long bands attached to the sleeves near the wrists. His tardiness was disrespectful for his guests, but none said a thing, because no matter what, he was the king, and the king could do whatever he wanted. 

Peter noticed that his friend Eugene was not around, so he guessed that the young man was going to compete. Miles in front of him cleared his throat, drawing Peter's attention and pointing with his eyes to the licuala that Peter was holding motionless in his hands. Peter understood immediately and began to move the leaf while trying to hide his embarrassment because his own apprentice was the one who had to remind him of his work. 

The king then stood up, stretching his long cloak and looking seriously at his guests and judges. "I appreciate your presence on this important day, I know I will have your support throughout my reign, which I hope will be prosperous and abundant," a round of applause followed his speech, to which the king nodded and concluded with a, "Let the jousts begin!" 

Peter shifted his gaze from the king to the two ends of the arena, where a body of ministers with trumpets gave the signal of the arrival of the knights. First Peter placed his gaze where Sir James Barnes was, friend and ally of Lord Steve, who nodded to him as assent to his feats. Barnes looked at him once and put on his shining helmet over his hair tied in a low bun. His horse was tall and elegant, with gray hair like the armor worn by its owner. 

"They say it's a vibranium armor of thousands of thousands of years," Natasha said, drawing the attention of Peter and the ladies. "It has magical runes on it that protect him from all evil." 

Both ladies were watching the opponent of young James, who was on the other side of the arena sitting on a big black steed while holding in his hand a long black spear, with the handle of vibranium. The helmet had the shape of a panther and was placed on Lord T'Challa's head, who was immobile on his horse, waiting simply for the initial call. 

"You know the rules," announced the herald, shouting with his strong voice. "Any demonstration of applause or reproach during the duel is prohibited in order to avoid discouragement in those who suffer setbacks, so these will only be allowed until one of the knights fall. In case of not obeying such rule, the defendant could be condemned to lose their tongue." 

Lord Anthony snorted, coming down from his balcony to the arena, where he would make sure the rules of combat were obeyed. Still, he was ignored by the herald, who continued to give his speech. "Three spears must break, if one of the fighters manages to remove the other from their saddle, the duel will be over and the winner'll be the one who remains seated." 

While the rules were being read, both jousters were going around the palenque to show their attire and steeds. Once finished, the judges took oath to each liador that they would fight with loyalty and bravery. Then the judges pointed their positions to each combatant, so that both had equal advantages of light and shadow. Once this was done, the judges withdrew to their stand and gave the approval signal, announcing the beginning to the jousts next to the singing of trumpets and bugles. 

Peter didn't know all the horsemen; there were knights of Cleri Gemma and of the mountains of Ferrum, as well as free riders and newly promoted squires to whom no one had dedicated songs; there were the younger sons of great lords and the heirs of lower Houses. 

"The youngsters have not yet performed great feats," said Lady Vanesa. "But I'm sure that their names will someday resonate throughout all the great kingdoms." 

Peter wished one day he could be part of these great knights, even with his lack of training he was a fast man skilled with the sword, and although he had never used a spear, Peter was sure that with some practice and physical strategy, he could reach to master it. If only he were not a simple servant. 

The roar of wood against metal attracted Peter's attention back to the palenque, where T'Challa had just weaken young James with a strong thrust, but still his opponent didn't fall off the horse. James, or Bucky as his friends called him; simply placed his wounded arm on his lap and held the wooden spear more firmly with the other. 

T'Challa smiled, nodding his admiration at his strong opponent. On the other hand, Sir Rogers settled uncomfortably in his seat, looking at the jousts with a frown. Miles gave Peter an excited look, while both knights returned to their initial position, lowering the visor of their helmets again and raising the spears to launch back with force. 

Young Barnes' spear was weak, though his blows to Lord T'Challa had been slight. Peter noticed this as soon as the trumpets announced another round, and their horses began to jog hard as they kept their spears straight. Because of his wounded arm, Ser James dropped his shield, so T'Challa managed to strike a strong blow on the chest of his opponent, who fell to the ground defeated. 

Lord T'Challa got off his steed removing his helmet, and while the audience applauded him and his men and women shouted their admiration in xhosa, the language of Wakanda, T'Challa came over to help his rival stand up. 

"Peter," Gwen's soft voice drew Peter out of the royal world, calling him to come closer. Peter frowned, handing the licuala to the girl, who continued the task as if nothing for the ladies not to notice the setback. "Eugene needs help with his horse," Gwen whispered, nodding toward the stables. 

Peter huffed irritated, coming down from the balconies to walk towards the horses, passing in the middle of several knights, who were adjusting their shields and mail coats under their armor. Peter only lowered his gaze when one of Lord Stark's apprentices winked at him, laughing when he saw Peter's reaction, who lowered his head with a frown and continued on his way, crossing the outer patio and passing under the rake that faced the courtyard of weapons. 

Once he arrived at the stables, he could hear the reason why the horses were not happy with Sir Eugene, or Flash, how his friends called him. "Damn four-legged rat with smelly snout." 

Peter glared at Eugene's back, before clearing his throat and approaching the flurried Ben, who whinnied when he saw Peter. "Horses know when you're mad at them, they won't listen to you if you talk to them like that." 

Flash laughed hypocritically brushing his hair with his hands while taking a whip. "Well, he better learn, because if I don't win, this horse will become the dinner." 

"Don't you dare hit him with that!" Peter intervened, standing in front of Ben. "This way he'll pay less attention to you!" 

"Get out of my way, Parker," Flash growled, taking the handle harder. 

"You called me to help you, so I'll do that," Peter promised in a calmer voice, glancing at the whip. "Trust me, that will only scare him more." 

"Then teach him to stop acting like a donkey and to let me ride on his damn back!" Eugene crossed his arms, glaring at Peter. 

Peter nodded, turning carefully towards Ben and quieting his neighs with soft words and caresses on his toupee, newly braided by the servants. "It' alright, you're a good boy, Ben." 

The horse began to calm down, letting out a strong puff of air through his nose, but stopping the restless movement of his legs. "Eugene will simply ride you for the jousts." He moved closer to the horse to whisper, "After that you will not have to endure his stinking ass." 

"Hurry up!" Flash shouted, to which Peter rolled his eyes, turning to face the young knight. 

"Try to be nice to him, he can be a great partner if only-" 

With a shove, Eugene pushed Peter out of his way, taking the reins from Ben, who once again raised his hooves when he saw his beloved caretaker being attacked. Peter tried to calm him with his voice, but Eugene raised the whip and hit the post next to the steed's head, breaking some of its wood. 

"Sir Eugene!" Peter shouted, to which the young man took the neck of Peter's uniform, looking him straight in the eyes. 

"These jousts are the only chance I have to show the king that I can be part of the royal guard," Flash growled, looking at Peter fiercely. "So you'd better start speaking horse language if you don't want me to hurt that stupid mare." 

Although Peter knew it was disrespectful, he shot Eugene a hard glare, letting go of the young knight's grip and walking steadily toward Ben, who neighed again. Peter raised both hands, making soft sounds so that Ben understood that he was fine, once the horse had calmed down, Peter began to caress him. "Good boy," he said, nodding to Eugene to mount the horse now that he was calm. 

The knight gave one last look of hatred at Peter, before taking his helmet and getting on the steed, who whinnied again but Peter continued to calm him as they left the stables. Once out of the barn, Eugene hit the stirrup on Ben's side, who started running toward the arena. Peter glared at the rider, grunting between his teeth. "Your welcome, you idiot." 

Someone laughed at his side and Peter gasped, knowing the punishments that led him to discourteously speak to someone of higher rank. When he turned his gaze he found a huge black steed that wore a red [blanket](http://www.biodiversidadvirtual.org/etno/data/media/767/Gualdrapa-con-el-escudo-de-los-Mendoza-53291.jpg). Mounting the horse was a knight dressed in a completely black armor, with no emblem on him. 

Before Peter could ask, the man squeezed gently with his heels and the horse began to run toward the palenque, while the other knights moved out of his way without paying much attention. Peter then remembered that he had to make sure that Ben behaved, so he ran back to the arena, where he had to ask for space, because nobody took him seriously. 

The jousts lasted all day and well into the sunset; the hooves of the great war knights left the field turned into a wasteland of torn earth. Peter observed from afar as the garden manager wrinkled his face every time a horse crushed his roses. 

Peter gave Miles a conspiratorial look whenever the knights crashed and their spears jumped to pieces, while the common people cheered on their favorites. The performance of Lord T'Challa was exceptional. He easily knocked down all his opponents from the mountains of Ferrum and Cleri Gemma Islands, and then he had a hard confrontation against an old knight of the Harkanon Guard, who had defeated in the first two ranks men who were thirty and forty years younger than him. 

The mysterious knight also seemed invincible, knocking down one rival after another with ferocity, at one point even breaking the shield and knocking Sir Samuel from Falcon out of the chair with a terrifying crash that caused the crowd to hold their breath, but the young prince stood up. A hurt foot was the only thing he had. The people began to cheer him, because the attractive heir was one of the favorites. With an elegant reverence, Sir Samuel walked away to his tent. His opponent simply snorted. 

By the time the sun was going down, the King decreed that the next one would be the last fight, and that the others would take place the next morning, before the hand-to-hand combat. In the arena, other servants were raising a young horseman wounded by a splinter of his own spear, while the mysterious knight and Eugene appeared before the king, who raised a cup in the name of their triumph. 

Eugene had his visor up, but the other kept his low. It was normal for mysterious knights to appear during the tournaments, as the spectators liked to call them, since they were riders who didn't carry a banner or any emblem on their armor, many times because they preferred to remain anonymous, or because if their House was very high, it was likely that their opponent would let them win so as not to deal with a punishment if they killed a Lord. 

The whispering was evident, everyone wanted to know who was hiding under that nameless armor, especially Eugene, who was still trying to tame an uncomfortable Ben. Peter tried to calm him down with a piece of apple, while Eugene threw hurtful words against the horse that had helped him get to where he was, at the level of champions such as Lord T'Challa and Thomas Maximoff, eldest son of Lord Vision and Lady Scarlett, and former champion of the jousts. 

But Peter wouldn't say anything, and he would swallow his words until he was alone with Miles and Gwen, because Eugene was in a state of mind in which he would use the spear against anyone who looked at him reluctantly. The young friend of the king seemed anxious, and Peter understood the great weight he had on his shoulders to represent part of the knights of the kingdom in front of the strong eyes of his father and his friend. But that did not give him the right to behave like an ogre. 

"Now move!" Eugene ordered, putting on his helmet. Peter refuted under his breath, giving one last pat to Ben and moving aside so that the young knight would get in place. 

On the other side the mysterious knight was ready, with his spear facing the sky, and with his other hand caressing his great steed, while watching Eugene firmly, or at least his helm seemed to do so. Peter was sure he knew who the knight was, he wasn't stupid and everything seemed to indicate it, but he preferred not to draw conclusions because it would be strange to be thinking about _him_ during those moments. 

The trumpets announced the last joust, while both knights placed their shields in front of their chests and the spears towards the front. Raising the flag the herald stood up, and with a simple movement of his hand, he let the knights know that it was their turn to compete. 

In an instant, both horses began their jogging, while Peter prayed that nothing would happen to Ben, because a deceased horse was not something new in these jousts and Peter really didn't know if he could maintain his composure if Ben fell. 

While he was thinking this, he heard the sound of wood breaking, and when he looked straight ahead, Eugene was on the floor, on the opponent's side for he had broken the wooden partition when he fell hard from the horse. There was a long silence, before Ben began to whinny, running towards Peter, who tried to calm him down, but the horse stood on its hind legs. "You're fine, everything's fine, Ben." 

While Peter tried to calm him down, Eugene stood up and took a whip from the hands of one of the servants. "So you will learn, you useless moke." 

Peter placed himself in front of Ben, looking at Eugene with force and knowing that if he was to receive the whiplash, he would do so, because Peter would never allow Flash to hurt the horse who had done nothing but his duty. Eugene looked at him hard, with his nostrils opening and closing with fierceness, and Peter realized that the young man was blinded with the fury of a bad loser. "Get out of the way!" 

"No!" Peter protested, knowing very well how bad his foolishness was seen in front of a royal name. 

"Then do whatever you want," Eugene growled, raising his whip to lower it furiously against Peter, if a hand had not interfered, taking the whip before it could reach its destination. 

"What do you want?" Flash shouted. 

"Learn how to be a good loser," answered the mysterious knight, standing behind Eugene and pulling the whip hard to get him away from Peter and Ben. 

"It's enough!" The King ordered, standing up and shaking his head in disapproval of his friend's actions. "The jousts are over for today." 

Peter looked at the mysterious knight, while the guests stood up and Flash stormed off toward the castle. "Thank you," Peter whispered. 

The knight nodded, clearing his throat and pointing to Ben, "It's a nice steed." 

Ben let out how exhausted he was by huffing his nostrils and ruffling Peter's hair in the process, who was right under his snout. The boy laughed and patted the horse's jaw. "He is." 

The knight climbed on his own steed and stroked its dark and bright hair. Then the knight cleared his throat again and said, "I hope you don't spill wine on him." 

Before Peter could answer, the other departed as fast as he could, and Peter laughed as he screamed. "I knew it!"


	3. It's A Deal Then

"So... who's the mystery knight?" 

Peter laughed, turning to see Gwen who acted as if she were sweeping the dirt ground. "I don't know," he said. 

Gwen emitted a sound, much like a flick of her tongue while glaring at Peter, "Don't be like that Pete, the man spoke to you." 

Peter tried to hide his smile, shrugging as he continued peeling potatoes. "We were talking about the horses." 

"And you talked about his _steed_?" Gwen wagged her eyebrows suggestively, to which Peter looked at her with a frown of disapproval. "Oh please," said the girl, leaving aside the broom because that was clearly an excuse to interrogate Peter. "I have eyes you know, that knight is very garish." 

"He was covered in armor," Peter reminded her, laughing when the girl gave him a sardonic look. 

"Thanks for telling me, otherwise I wouldn't have noticed," Gwen took a small knife and a potato, and sat in front of Peter to observe him better. "So, what's the deal between you two?" 

"For all the Gods," Peter cried, sliding his palm over his face. "I already told you we were talking about horses." 

"And have you entered his _stable_?" 

Peter looked at Gwen with wide eyes and his cheeks turning bright red, to which the girl burst out laughing with tears. "What a way to do your job, Parker." 

"What is it?" Miles left the kitchen to empty a bucket of dirty water on the ground and took the opportunity to sit next to Gwen, who pointed at Peter with her knife. 

"It happens that Peter is in love with the mysterious knight."

Peter rolled his eyes, although the blush on his face had not yet disappeared. He felt so stupid that he decided that the potato in his hands was very interesting, so all his attention was placed on it until in front of him Miles muttered under his breath and handed a silver sole to Gwen, who smiled proudly. 

"I can't believe this!" Peter exclaimed, looking at the both of them with his mouth open. "Are you betting on me?" 

"Money is money, Peter," Gwen said, putting the silver coin in the pocket of her dress. "Even better when I'm the one who wins." 

"I made the bet that the mysterious knight would take you to his tent in probably after a week," Miles said, chewing on a wheat branch. "Gwen said it would be less." 

"I have not slept with him!" Peter said indignantly, to which Miles raised both arms in victory and Gwen growled quietly, returning the coin to Miles. "You two are the worst friends." 

"Hey, money is money," Miles said, kissing the silver sole. 

"The week is not over yet," Gwen reminded the boy, who glared at her. 

"You have no shame," continued Peter indignantly. "I am right in front of you, and still bet on my life?" 

"Sex life," Gwen clarified. 

"Even worse!" 

"So," Miles interrupted, clearing his throat and removing the worn wheat from his mouth "Who is it?" 

Peter glared at both of them and then sighed, putting the potato aside and wiping his hand with the cloth that rested on his shoulder. "It's not in my place to tell you." 

Gwen looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and Miles rolled his eyes while Peter stood up, grabbing the barrel with potato skins and laughing as he walked away, to which Miles yelled, "That only supports our rumors, you're bedding him." 

Peter ignored them, walking to the end of the castle to make a hole in the ground where servants threw the vegetables waste. He took the shovel that was next to the dump, and with a strong blow he slammed the shovel into the ground, pushing further with the heel of his foot and then taking out the piece of earth to throw it aside. 

While doing this, he heard a murmur at his side, it was a feminine voice. Peter was not surprised, many times the great nobles would sneak out with girls from the taverns and end up in the most uncomfortable corners so as not to be found, and those sounds were probably something similar. 

After five thrusts in the earth with the shovel, Peter took the barrel and tipped it over the hole, hitting the bottom so that all the potato skins fell. The murmur in the distance became moans, and again, Peter was not impressed. But curiosity killed the cat, according to the troubadours. 

Peter approached silently towards the forest, beyond the natural path that surrounded the castle with poorly trimmed low bushes. Black hair peeked through the flowers, throwing her head back and biting her lip. It was Lady Vanessa. Peter opened his eyes wide, knowing that it was time to stop looking because probably Lady Vanessa and her future husband were sharing intimacy, but somehow as soon as Peter was about to go, bright reddish hair appeared in his visual range. And he knew Lord Wade didn't have hair. 

Peter turned around, returning to his work and covering the potato skins with the dirt he had removed earlier. Then, taking the barrel he quickly left for the stables, greeting anyone who he met with a curtsey but not looking up, because he knew very well that his face burned with the sun. In the stables, the horses were quiet, while the knights outside practiced their thrusts for the hand-to-hand fighting to be held in three days. 

The last jousts couldn't be celebrated that morning because one of the competitors was indisposed as a result of something he ate, so this time Peter was ordered to help in the kitchen for the night's big banquet while the knight was getting better. The young King thought it would be unfair not to let him rest, although he decreed that if the knight did not feel better for the next day, another fallen knight could take his place. 

Peter somehow already knew who would take that place, which made him very angry because Eugene had not behaved in the last joust, so Peter silently prayed to the gods for the sick knight to hopefully recover soon. 

Ben whinnied happily at the sight of him, to which Peter smiled, moving closer to caress the horse while allowing his heart to calm its throbbing for what he had witnessed. Usually, such sexual situations never affected him. Peter was accustomed to encountering more uncomfortable scenes and being paid with three soles or more to maintain his silence. 

But this was different, and Peter did not know very well why. Perhaps the fact that Sir Wade had been so nice to him, or because the young Carlysle had the pressure of her father on her shoulders, and Peter knew the consequences that the young lady could suffer if she didn't keep her word. Peter wasn't sure what the reason was, but he felt uncomfortable now that he knew that. 

He took a brush and began to untangle the braids in Ben's hair, releasing them to gently pass the brush through each strand. He knew that if Eugene was given the chance to compete again, the maids would be very angry with him for having let loose the braids on the horse, but Peter felt that without braids there was less chance that Flash would compete again. Pure superstition. 

Taking a stool, Peter climbed up to start cutting the fabrics with which they had tied the crest. "In the name of the smith, Ben, they tied these braids tightly, it seems as if they had wanted to leave them there for all eternity." 

"They tend to do that." Peter froze, turning to meet the owner of his sorrows. The young heir chuckled, getting off his horse and caressing its jaw. "I think mine needs a brush, would you help me with that?" 

Peter swallowed hard, remembering the image he had just observed, and tried to smile as he got off the wooden stool. "I thought the Howletts brought servants for that." 

Wade smiled and approached Ben to observe him. "They don't do such a good job, I could say." 

Peter laughed, tugging at the strips of cloth he had cut from Ben's hair to throw them into a barrel. "I don't know how to braid," he admitted, to which Wade shrugged. 

"Me neither, but some brushing won't hurt." 

Wade's steed neighed, to which Ben responded by doing the same. Peter laughed and Wade smiled when he saw it. "See, Ben is telling Blind Al that you are the best at that." 

Peter looked at Wade with a frown, turning to the beautiful black horse who had two cloths cut in circles covering its eyes "Blind Al?" 

Wade nodded, approaching to caress the steed who blew air through its nostrils. "Mhm, she does not know how I look because she has never been able to see me, maybe that's why she lets me ride her." 

Peter shook his head in amazement, reaching his hand out to the muzzle, before stopping and looking at Wade. "Can I touch her?" 

Wade smiled at this affectionately, nodding and taking Peter's hand in his to bring it closer to the mare. "Al may be a pain in the lowest hollow of your body, but the girl knows how to fight." 

Peter's hand touched the mare's nose, who raised its muzzle to tap his palm. Peter let out a giggle, while Wade's gloved hand directed him toward Al's toupee, who lowered her head to allow them access. Peter's eyes seemed to shine while following the movement, and Wade couldn't hide the smile on his face. 

"Wow," Peter said, lowering his hand to Al's jaw to caress there, Wade then let him go. "What did you do to train her?" 

Wade snorted, shrugging and scratching the back of his neck. "Actually, she learned many things on her own. As I told you, she is strong and intelligent, although sometimes she lets out her rebellious side just to annoy me." 

Peter smiled, caressing the long strips of black hair. "She's beautiful." 

Wade nodded, blushing for no apparent reason. Making the boy smile with such fascination was probably what gave so much happiness to Wade's pathetic heart. "So what do you say? I bet that if you brush her, she will let you walk around the yard on her loin." 

Peter lowered his hand, looking at Wade with a smile before heading back to the stable, putting Ben back into his barn and taking the brush again. "Why not?" Peter said, shrugging and laughing as he saw the happiness in Wade's eyes. "She doesn't let anyone ride her?" 

Wade shook his head and patted Al's side. "She's a stubborn filly. I'm the only one who can. She let me ride her, but not tame her." 

Peter raised an eyebrow, placing the stool next to the head of the mare, to stand on it and begin to brush. "Then you're special?" 

Wade shrugged with a smug smile. "What can I say? Must be my charms." 

"I don't doubt it," Peter agreed, carefully brushing the bright strands of hair. 

Wade's cheeks and ears turned scarlet, so he cleared his throat and looked down at the floor pretending he was taking something off his boot. "So, how long have you been working in the kingdom?" 

Blind Al shook her head, moving the hair from side to side. Peter laughed, returning to his initial task once she finished. "Since I can remember, I think. My aunt has worked as an assistant to the maester since her youth, but she also helps in the kitchen, just like everyone else. I used to play with the King when we were kids, but you know, things change." 

"Or the new King is a twat and doesn't know how to appreciate a good friendship," Wade rolled his eyes and Peter laughed, looking around. 

"Don't let them hear you say those things, much less within the kingdom." 

Wade shrugged and began to pass a stone over the mud on the soles of his boots. "It's the truth. That friend of his does not deserve to have such a high rank." 

Peter frowned and stepped off the stool to face Al, where he began to brush her tupee. "Sir Eugene?" 

" _'Sir'_ is too big of a name for him," Wade threw the stone aside and leaned against the door of the stables. "It was good I was able to knock him down." Peter looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous smirk, to which Wade smiled, immediately flushing. "You already knew it anyway!" 

Peter laughed, leaving Al to cover his mouth in a surprised performance. "You're the mysterious knight?" he asked, laughing when he saw how the heir was glaring at him. "All the ladies are dying for you and the minstrels can't wait to sing your songs." 

Wade burst out laughing, throwing Peter the piece of mud that he took off his boot, "Shut up, at least I'm not out there spilling good wine." 

Peter glared at him and crossed his arms. "That was an accident." 

"Was it?" Wade asked, approaching slowly and letting the crunch of the rocks under his boots fill the silence until he was facing Peter, who smirked. "All that wine just to meet me?" 

"How humble," Peter said, laughing and moving away to hang the brush on an iron rod embedded in the wall. "Are you sure it wasn't you who collided with me on purpose?" 

Wade smiled, sighing as he leaned against Al, who bent her head to eat the growing grass on the ground. "What's your name?" Wade asked. 

Peter, who was taking the fresh straw from outside the barn to put it in the stables, looked at the prince with a frown. "Why would that matter? I'm not more than a simple servant." 

Wade pushed off from Al, taking the other block of straw to help Peter. "Because you're my favorite horseman." 

Peter laughed and looked at Wade out of the corner of his eye. "Nonsense." 

The horses neighed when they saw the fresh straw the young men were going to put in their stables, while Peter made the groups and Wade came over to keep helping him. "What do I have to do for you to tell me your name?"

Peter laughed again, lifting a block of grass and placing it in the first barn. "Nothing, I could just tell you."

Wade shook his head, bending down to take the other group. "I want to earn it."

Peter put his attention on Wade then, serious and looking for a sign of mockery in the face of the heir because nothing in that conversation made sense, and it wasn't the first time that a joke like that was played on Peter, what with having Eugene and his herd always on his heels. But Wade simply looked at him with an embarrassed smile, with that face marked by irregularities and those pure eyes in which Peter could only find pain, which made him feel more guilty for what he had seen that afternoon, as if it had been Peter who was being unfaithful to the prince. "Why?"

Wade blushed, scratching his head and looking at the floor. "Why not?"

Peter laughed then, shaking his head and smiling even more when Wade looked at him confused. "Fine" he said, approaching Wade slowly, looking straight into his eyes and watching as Wade's throat moved up and down in anticipation. "What I want is," Peter said in a whisper, bringing his lips close to Wade's ear and touching the side of the prince's hip, who shuddered and let out a brittle breath. But a quick movement put distance between them, Peter with Wade's sword in his hand and pointing to the prince's throat. "I want you to teach me the techniques and movements that are needed with a sword."

Wade blinked several times, looking at Peter awestruck as the young servant just smirked, "What is your problem, boy? Do you want to kill me," Wade shrieked.

Peter chuckled and shrugged. "You must be very weak if you die from something like this."

Wade glared at him, then quickly took Peter's hand and pulled him. "Oh yeah?" the Prince asked, taking Peter's other arm to place it behind his back, and holding the sword against the servant's neck with the other, still with Peter's hand under his grasping the handle of the sword. "Weak is the grip you have on your weapons."

Peter smiled, panting and pulling his body back until Wade crashed hard against the wooden column inside the barn, where he released Peter's arm from behind his back. Wade lowered his sword then and started to laugh as Peter continued to lean against him, turning his gaze to Wade's face and panting as he watched the other's face. "Then please teach me."

Wade looked at him for a moment in silence, as if studying Peter's face now that he was so close to the other young man. Soft skin, with beautiful and bright eyes as the autumn honey in Winghead. Brown hair like mahogany wood and wavy like water under the pressure of a boat. And round, colored lips of a pale pink that seemed to demand Wade to shorten the distance. Peter smiled, noticing where Wade's gaze was resting, to which the prince cleared his throat and looked away while nodding. "Alright, when do you want to start?"

Peter pushed himself off Wade, walking again towards what was left of the straw. "It could be after the jousts, so you can train for the hand-to-hand fighting that will take place in four days."

Wade nodded, stretching his leather-gloved hand toward Peter. "It's a deal then, young servant."

Peter smiled, sticking his arm out from under the straw. "It's a deal."

Wade placed the hood of his cloak over his head, and winking at Peter he climbed on Blind Al and rode away. Peter smiled, trying to ignore the blush on his cheeks as he turned to continue his work. "What a strange Lord."


	4. The Jousts Part II

The sun was beginning to appear while the minstrels, sitting before the King's tent, filled the early morning with music. A juggler swiveled a cascade of burning sticks into the air, and the King's personal jester, with a face like a grape simpleton, danced on stilts in his thousand-colored suit, swallowing a full rib without even chewing. 

Wade watched this sitting on a log in front of his tent, while Logan came out adjusting his breeches and growling at the glutton's image. "Fucking dimwits. They are as funny as a wart." 

Wade snorted, turning his gaze to watch the Lord, who was covering his face with one hand as the sun illuminated him from the hip upwards. "I think he's funny," Wade said, laughing when the buffoon in his drunkenness, overturned his drink on _Sir_ Euegene, who rabidly kicked the jester's stilts and made him fall. Then the young knight glared at Logan, who snorted loudly. 

"That's funny alright," the Lord conceded. 

A girl pulled her head and part of her naked torso through the entrance of the young knight's tent to ask if he was all right, to which Flash yelled at her not to interfere and went back inside with her, throwing the fabric of the entrance behind him. Logan sighed, whistling to one of the employees to bring him more wine "the whole boot" the Lord ordered, and the boy nodded, walking quickly towards the castle. He was young and with tanned skin. Wade had seen him before with the servant who had bewitched him. 

"Is that the one you like?" The question surprised Wade so much that he had to repeat it again in his head, before turning with a scowl towards Logan, who was looking at him, waiting for an answer. 

"What?" 

The Lord rolled his eyes and took a seat on the trunk next to Wade's, sighing and massaging his temples. "I'm hungover, but I don't think I was drunk enough not to remember that Maester Xavier told me you asked for a certain flower for someone special, then you went to see a servant." 

Wade cleared his throat, sitting up straight in his seat and looking to the side to hide the crimson and discomfort on his face. "I didn't give the flower to that servant." Logan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and Wade sighed. "Fine, I have not given it to them _yet_." 

Logan nodded, he too seemed uncomfortable, although Logan always seemed uncomfortable in everything that had to do with verbal intimacy. Wade understood. He himself had reaped that particularity of the Lord of Lupine, although Logan was not his biological father. Wade thought that this way of being came from men who had suffered and no longer knew how to express their feelings in words. 

"So, is it that boy?" Logan asked, nodding toward the dark-haired young man who was walking towards them again, smiling in mockery at seeing the jester trying to climb back onto his stilts. "He's, uh... quite young." 

Wade rolled his eyes and snorted. "It's not that one, Logan. What kind of noble do you think I am?" 

Logan shrugged, trying not to show his relief. "But it's a man, isn't it?" 

Wade bit his lip and remained silent, as the boy left the leather bottle with wine in Logan's hands and asked if his Lordship would have them serve him something else. Logan shook his head and dismissed him with a wave of his hand, to which the boy bowed and walked away, but not before stopping to finally help the jester. Logan took the bottle with both hands, one in the mouthpiece and the other in the lower part to hold, and lifted it to his mouth to take a big drink. He then offered it to Wade, who accepted without much pleading. 

The wine was sweet and had arrived that morning at the hands of some men of Feles inside a barrel of snow, it was delicious and Wade would later thank Vanessa for it. Despite what happened between them, the lady and he still had a good friendship. What brought him back to the issue with Logan. "Does it bother you if it's a man?" 

The Lord took a stone from the floor and threw it towards one of the many cups thrown on the grass, managing to dent it but not break it. Logan then shrugged, looking to the front. "It's not my duty to tell you who you can or cannot bed, but you know you have a duty, and even though you and I could pass it over our ass cracks, Vanessa's father would see it as a disgrace." 

Wade nodded, sighing and dropping his head to scratch it, exasperated. "I don't have power over who my heart chooses." 

Silence spread between them, and Wade imagined how Logan was about to tell him how his decision to make Wade his son was the worst he had in his life, but instead a strong hand landed on Wade's shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Wade looked up then, and found Logan smiling. "You know I don't know what to say, especially on these matters," the Lord said, "but I know that you are more than capable of making your own decisions, Wade, and we'll be there to back you up. Just try for that decision not to take us to war." 

Wade groaned, irritated. "That doesn't help." 

Logan laughed and took another swig of the wine. "Love is a complicated subject, but you're still young so stop complaining." 

"You give me advice when you're the first to sleep with anyone who moves in front of you," Wade reminded him. 

Logan stood up then, with a petulant smile as he walked towards the banquet table. "Yes, but I'm older than you and already have a worthless title over my head, what do you have?" 

Wade chuckled and raised his hand with the leather boot between his fingers. "I have wine." 

"Don't waste it," agreed Logan. "You'll need it." 

Wade laughed, shaking his head and watching the dawn rising high with the passing of time. He knew the weight he had on his shoulders, but still Wade couldn't give up on what he wanted. He needed to talk to Vanessa. 

~ ° ~ 

The double door of the entrance was of ebony and oak, and a hunting scene was carved in it from top to bottom. A pair of stone knights stood guard at the entrance; their armors were beautiful works of brilliant red steel that transformed them into part of some Royal Guard. Once down the steps, Peter crossed the front yards, heading towards the royal tent where the King's Hand had sent someone to call him. 

The camp was starting to wake up. The sausages sizzled over the fires and permeated the atmosphere with their smell of garlic and pepper. The young squires ran from one side to another fulfilling the commissions of their masters, while they yawned and stretched to recover the energy lost during the night. A servant carrying a goose under his arm gave Peter a smile. 

"Good morning," he murmured, while the goose cawed and pecked at his fingers. 

Peter nodded, wrinkling his face in understanding and continued on his way. Each tent had the standard and a shield on the outside that shone with the light of dawn. The King's tent was near the water, and the morning mist of the river enveloped it in gray tendrils. It was the largest and most opulent of the camp, all in golden silk. Next to the entrance was the strong sword of John, along with his immense iron shield, in which a golden bugle was seen in front of the morning sun that represented House Jameson. 

Peter had hoped to find the King still in bed, immersed in dreams of wine and women, but luck had never been a strong one for him. _'Never count your chickens before they hatch, Peter.'_ he thought, entering the tent and making a slight curtsy while the King growled at his employees because they didn't fit his clothes correctly. 

"Peter!" The king called, to which Peter bowed again. 

"How can I help your highness?" 

John glared at the boy at his side, who was placing a red silk cloth over his shoulder and in his nervousness pricked his King. John then turned his gaze back to Peter. "These brats are useless," he growled under his breath, to which the boy beside him nodded in apology and Peter felt the need to roll his eyes. 

"I wanted to ask," John said, coming down from the wooden stool and pushing the servants off him. "The white steed is ready, isn't it? The other knight's health didn't improve and I thought about competing myself, but my Hand says that the others will probably let me win." 

Peter simply smiled, although he wanted to comment. "Naturally, nobody wants to lose their heads over a defeated King." 

"In any case," continued John, putting on his boots and pushing the hands of the servants who tried to help him. "Flash will compete again. We talked and I think he will behave better this time," Peter knew that it wouldn't be like that, but he preferred to let it go. "So please take the horse to the arena. We will resume the jousts as soon as I finish my breakfast, which I don't see nearby," the latter he said looking at one of the boys, who bowed and quickly left the tent. 

Peter nodded, making a reverence himself and smiling at the King. "As your highness desires."

John smiled at that. It was obvious that having power over his new title put him in the best of moods. "You can go now," the King ordered, dismissing him with a movement of his hand. 

Peter came out of the tent, rolling his eyes and sighing as he made his way to the stables as usual. Crossing the outer patio again and ignoring the whistles of admiration that only the knights of the guard of Ferrum dared to address him with such impudence. 

"Good Morning!" 

Peter groaned under his breath, preparing the fake smile with which he had greeted all the nobles he encountered on the way, but the face of a certain knight made him frown in confusion. Wade looked at this and wrinkled his face. "Am I bothering you?" 

Peter then noticed the expression he was making, so he shook his head and laughed. "No, I'm sorry my Lord, I didn't expect you." 

Wade smiled, still a little unsure. Peter noticed but didn't have much time for delicacies, as the king had given an order, so he continued quickly to the stables. Wade decided to follow him while asking. "Will you be in the jousts today?" 

Peter dodged a servant who carried a horn with beer and ducked under an armor that two knights had lifted in the air. Then he shrugged and smiled at Wade, who had been caught in the tumult. "I have to be there!" Peter yelled, moving away toward the stableyard. 

Wade smiled, nodding and placing both hands around his mouth so that his words were heard by Peter. "We'll see each other then." The heir started to walk away, with a big smile on his face. "I'm going to win." 

Peter snorted, shaking his head and moving quickly back to the stables as he shouted, "You'd better win!" 

~ ° ~ 

Once he had finished his work, Peter ate a breakfast that tasted better than anything he had eaten in a long time, since the servants were given the leftovers of the royal breakfast. Not that there was much left. Peter readied his clothes and went to the plaza where the last jousts would be held and the theatrical plays would be given. 

He made his way through the crowd to where Eugene was and found him just as the horns sounded announcing the first joust. The knight was so absorbed that he barely noticed Peter's arrival. 

The first rider to appear was Thomas Maximoff, firstborn of the Lords of Cleri Gemma and Guardian of the Summer Islands. He was nineteen years old and was the youngest rider to win the previous tournaments, only seventeen at the time. So far in the jousts, he had dismounted three knights of the Royal Guard the first day. He was one of the most handsome knights, with foreign and sharp features. 

The breastplate of his armor was embossed and enameled to form diamonds of a thousand shapes and colors, and his white steed like the snow of Ymir, had its hair painted in purple and wore a blanket with red diamonds. After each victory, Sir Thomas took off his helmet, rode slowly around the perimeter of the field, and finally took a precious stone from his armor and handed it to some beautiful lady in the crowd. 

Needless to say, he was one of the favorites. 

"Ninety soles of gold for the Lord of Wakanda," Lord Anthony Stark announced aloud as he saw T'Challa enter on his elegant black steed. The horse wore a silver mesh blanket, and T'Challa shone in his black armor from head to toe, including his black panther helmet. 

"I'm in," nodded Lord Banner. "I think Sir Thomas has a lot to show us." 

"He has already shown everything," Tony snorted in a dry tone while sitting in his gallery. "Just a pretty face." 

Thomas smiled at his parents in the audience, lowered the visor with a metallic sound, and took his place. Lord T'Challa nodded respectfully to his companions, lowered the visor gently and made his way to the other end of the field. Both readied their spears. 

The tribune raised from their seats, leaning forward and shuddering as the horses galloped. Sir Thomas leaned forward with a firm spear, but T'Challa inclined to one side deftly a moment before the impact. The peak of the spear of the young knight collided, harmlessly, against the vibranium shield with the emblem of the panther, while that of Lord T'Challa's hit in perpendicular. The wood splintered, and Thomas had to fight not to fall. The crowd screamed and Peter smiled. 

"See!" Stark told Lord Bruce, who snorted. "Just a pretty face, I'm telling you." 

Sir Thomas managed to stay seated, although barely. The knight pulled the reins of his horse, instructing it to turn around to go to his starting point for the second round. T'Challa, on the other hand, tossed the broken spear and took a new one while commenting something in his language with his squire. Sir Thomas didn't wait any longer and started galloping again, to which Lord T'Challa did the same. 

This time when Lord T'Challa leaned back in his seat, Thomas had studied him and did the same. The two spears jumped in a thousand pieces, and when the splinters fell to the ground, there was a horse without a rider. Sir Thomas took off his helmet and raised it in victory, still smiling on his horse, while Lord T'Challa tried to find stability on the ground. 

Lord Banner laughed, clapping and winking at his tribune companion, before taking a sip of his wine. Tony glared at him and adjusted the collar of his robe. 

Lord T'Challa was helped by his squire to rise, even if the knight insisted on being in perfect condition, although Peter could see the scratch on his cheek caused by the dry and hard earth when he fell off his horse. 

By the time the Lord left the area, Sir Eugene had already taken his place on the field. He was a big guy, Peter could tell. Although brute and brusque, his body could give chills if he was seen in the distance in a combat, but his brain and manners needed more work. Not that knights were supposed to be smart anyway. 

When the mystery knight made his appearance, a murmur ran through the crowd, Peter watched as Logan moved his neck to relax his muscles, and Lady Natasha and Lady Vanessa approached to converse among themselves. Peter was the only one who apparently knew about the intimacy of the ladies, and he still did not know what to think about it. 

The knight was as big, if not more so than the young Flash, and wore a polished armor of dark metal like the one he used the first day. The only difference was that on his sides at the ribs, the color changed to red. Over his steed was the same red blanket, and its eyes were covered with the black circles with which Peter remembered her, which uncovered an exclamation of amazement and a sip of malt liquor from Lord Logan. 

"They're tournament spears," Miles reminded Peter at his side, surprising the brunet, who had not noticed his nervous throb. He wasn't sure if it was for Ben or the prince. Miles smiled again and murmured, "They will break as soon as they hit, nobody will be hurt." 

Ben was neighing and whistling, shaking his head, so Eugene hit him with the boot of the armor. The horse reared up and almost knocked him down. "Please, Sir Eugene," Peter begged, helping Ben to calm down. "Have patience." 

Flash glared at him, directed the horse as he fought with the reins to his corresponding side of the liza, and readied his spear. And suddenly everything started. The stallion began the gallop, direct and conscient, while the mysterious knight's horse did the same, although softer than the uncomfortable Ben. 

Eugene's spear struck Wade's arm, who had to maneuver himself to keep from falling, although the hiss in his voice made it clear how hard the blow had been. Flash chuckled, taking a new spear without even thanking Peter when he gave it to him. Not that the boy cared, he was very busy looking at the other knight and trying to act carefree when Miles looked at him. 

The herald asked if the mysterious knight could continue, to which the young prince nodded and Peter wrinkled his face, watching as Logan growled something under his breath to his maester. Again, both knights took their place, stretching their spears and arranging their shields. 

The second gallop began, the young Sir of Lupine tilted his spear, to which Eugene managed to move his before both spears slammed into each other's abdomens. Both knights were weakened, although Eugene more than his opponent, because the other's spear hit with greater impact. 

Peter cleared his throat and took another spear to reach Eugene, who in a growl snatched it from his hands. The young man moved away to his place again, and Peter glared at him, earning a pat on the shoulder from Miles. 

Once the horses started their gallop, Peter managed to see how Blind Al was moving a little to the side as she ran, which gave Wade better range to hit Eugene in the chest, taking Flash with him on the spear, until it broke and the young knight was off of Ben, rolling on the ground and growling in pain. 

Peter then called Ben, who ran to him without much trouble. He began to caress the horse, while Eugene stood and kicked his helmet, not daring to do anything else because he had the firm gaze of the King on him. Flash bowed and walked away from the arena, not ignoring the giggles behind him. 

For his part, Peter was grateful that Eugene didn't retaliate with Ben this time, who was breathing hard at his side. Peter stroked the horse's hair, moving away to give way to Sir Thomas and his steed, who were so recovered they seemed not to have competed a few minutes ago. 

On the other side remained the mystery knight, for whom Peter could not help but feel fear as he watched him fight against his injured arm and beaten stomach. Peter understood that for honor, knights never retreated unless they were thrown out of their seats, but the heir of Lupine was wounded and Peter had a hard time seeing how he could win. 

The servant tied Ben by the pond for him to drink, and went back to the arena where the knights were already in place. This time Peter decided to move closer to Wade's side, biting his lip when Sir Thomas lowered his visor. 

"One hundred soles for the mysterious knight," Tony shouted, smiling when Sir Samuel of Falcon snorted and shook his head. 

"It seems you just want to lose money," said the young Sir while shrugging. "I accept." 

Another sonorous gallop interrupted the conversation and drew the attention of those present again to the plaza. Blind Al leaned again, and the knight on her loin did the same. Sir Thomas copied the movement, and the spears of both barely hit their bodies, though still, Wade grabbed his arm tightly as he returned to his starting position. 

"You're hurt," Peter whispered, taking the place next to Wade's squire. Sir Wade looked at him for a moment and let out a sound much like a tired chuckle. 

"I'm glad you came," Wade commented calmly, causing Peter to glare at him. 

"You're hurt," the boy repeated. 

"Would you retreat?" The knight asked in a whisper, placing his wounded arm back in his lap to hold the shield. Peter rolled his eyes and smiled defeated. 

"No," he admitted, "I guess not, but how do you plan to keep that shield up with your arm like that?" 

Wade looked at his wounded arm and sighed, shrugging the other as he glanced back at Peter. "I have to win," he said, with what Peter supposed was a smile under the helmet, before taking the reins and returning to his liza. 

Peter looked at him cautiously, moving away to a corner to avoid the looks of those present. 

Both knights readied their spears and raised their shields, while the public rose from their seats to look more closely at what everyone was sure would be the last joust of the tournament. Thomas lowered his visor and Wade took a deep breath, shuddering a little when the blow in his stomach complained. 

Suddenly it started again, both horses began to gallop hard and their knights leaned forward. Wade then lowered his body and head further, managing to avoid the spear of Sir Thomas, who was not so lucky. The Sir of Lupine turned his spear just in time to strike Thomas on the side when the knight passed by, turning his spear into splinters and causing Sir Thomas to fall from his seat before he could even hold on to the reins. 

There was a long silence, before a wave of applause, whistles, shouts of amazement, excited murmurs and, above all, the laughter of Lord Tony Stark, who danced in his gallery as if he was the champion. The heir pulled the reins to one side of the field. His spear was discarded to the side as Wade got off Blind Al with difficulty, holding his arm and bending so as not to strain his stomach. 

Sir Thomas stood up and refused the help of his squire, instead limping towards his opponent to shake his hand, but stopped when the mystery knight ignored everyone in his walk to take something from his leather bag. A plant with an elongated stem that ended in a fist of small, purple flowers. 

The ladies in the audience gasped, and the nobles smiled in pride. 

Wade took a strong breath, pushing with his hand to get away from the wooden grandstands, to start walking towards his side of the arena. Everyone present kept their attention on him, especially Peter, who opened his eyes in understanding when he noticed where the heir of Lupine was heading. 

The brunet looked at his sides to make sure that perhaps there was a pretty lady at his side, but all he found were confused faces looking at him. When Peter looked forward, he noticed that Wade was breathing hard and snuggling with his good hand his injured arm, with which he held the flower. 

So Peter decided to approach Wade's side to try to help him. "Does my lord need a little help to get to his destination?" 

The heir growled a little as he made an effort to put the flower in front of Peter, who held his breath and tried to ignore the gasps at his side. "What are you doing, my lord?" 

"Take it," Wade ordered, low so no one would hear him. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Peter asked again, this time leaving formalities aside. 

Wade sighed tiredly and looked up at Peter as he shrugged his good shoulder. "I don't know anyone who deserves this flower more than you." 

Peter knew that his cheeks and ears were burning and that much of it was the public's fault who were still watching them. Besides, Peter was not a beautiful lady, at least not last time he checked. "Wade?"

The heir said nothing. Instead, he removed one of his leather gloves and put Peter's hand in it, who continued more confused than before. "You'll understand later," Wade explained in a low voice, placing the flower in the brunet's gloved hand and ignoring the whispers at their sides, as well as the strangeness of the whole scene. 

Peter didn't have time to question anything, for the knight in front of him limped away to his horse, where his squire was waiting to help him, placing a cloth under his arm and tying it around his neck, before Wade hopped on Blind Al and rode away to what Peter assumed would be the camp. 

The brunet looked around, where some still looked at him strangely, while others, on the other hand, were smiling, including Lady Natasha and Vanessa, who were walking away in silence, or Lord Stark, who was still laughing and lifting his cup towards Peter. Or Lord Logan, who simply laughed, shaking his head as he stood to get down from his balcony. 

Peter looked down then, choosing to ignore the other whispers as he walked towards Ben, where he released the horse and headed for the stables, the only place where he could think in peace about what happened. 

Once away from the arena, the camps and the castle, and making sure no one was nearby; Peter took out the flower with his gloved hand, which still held Wade's heat. He snorted, studying the flower closely and continuing on his way. "Now, what kind of flower are you?"


	5. Unsteady Feet

A vassal announced the young lady, before Vanessa entered with a mocking smile to Wade's tent, who rolled his eyes and smiled when the woman gave him a kiss on the cheek and sat next to him on the bed. 

Wade didn't feel so bad as to be in bed, after the remedies offered by the maester, the pain stopped a little, although the red in his stomach turned purple, and his arm had to remain motionless for a while, especially after the painful method with which maester Charles set his shoulder in place. 

But apart from all that, Wade was sure that the doss imposed by Charles was just an excuse for the maester so that Wade wouldn't dislocate more bones trying to participate in another competition. 

"You look good, _milord_ ," Vanessa taunted, causing Wade to roll his eyes again. 

"Thank you, it was a terrible battle against a boar that entered the tent," Wade said, provoking a laugh from Vanessa. "You have no idea, everything happened just when the jousts were happening." 

"Sure," the young woman nodded. "I imagine it hit you so hard in the stomach that a spear does not compare to it." 

"Not at all," Wade shook his head, all serious "Only someone weak allows himself to get hit so hard in a simple joust." 

Vanessa smiled affectionately, shaking her head and stroking the bandages that covered Wade's exposed abdomen, who some years ago would have felt ashamed and disgusted with himself, but Vanessa knew him better than anyone else, and the lady had never shown displeasure towards his physique. "You can fool any Lord out there, but I recognized you from the first day. A sheep locked inside armor." 

"Sheep, never, don't let Logan hear you because he would feel quite insulted," Wade interrupted, laughing when Vanessa rolled her eyes. 

"Fine, a wolf in sheep's clothing," she agreed, now pushing the fabrics from Wade's bed to lie next to him, sighing and looking Wade in the eye. "I don't want to get married," she said simply and dryly. 

"I know." Wade nodded, wrinkling his face at the thought of Vanessa's father. 

The lady sighed, resting her head on Wade's good shoulder and taking the lady's hand to massage his fingers. "You don't want to marry either," she whispered, pinching Wade's little finger "At least not with me." 

Wade opened his mouth to object with nice words, but Vanessa stopped him with a raised hand. "He's charming," she said, smiling when she saw how Wade turned scarlet and avoided looking at her. Vanessa laughed, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I liked the gesture of the flower, very chivalrous, like you." 

"Chivalrous," Wade said mockingly. "I am everything but that." 

"Wade," Vanesa looked at him with a raised eyebrow as she lifted her hand to caress the heir of Lupine's head. "You're the most chivalrous noble I've ever met, and nobles I've known enough." 

Wade rolled his eyes and Vanessa smiled. "Now, do not change the subject. You like a servant and you're the gossip of the moment, the mystery knight who fell in love with a servant," the young woman said, raising her arms as if she were a storyteller in the middle of a plaza announcing a play. "I do not blame you. I must admit that as soon as you gave him that flower, I paid a lot of attention to the boy. He's lovely, gentle eyes, like a lamb." 

"I don't think he's a lamb," Wade muttered, to which Vanessa laughed loudly and adjusted the robe she wore over her dress. 

"You're already spellbound." 

Wade smiled shyly, looking at the floor to hide the redness of his face. "Just because you are made of ice, doesn't mean that the rest of us don't have feelings." 

Vanessa glared at him, standing up to walk to the wooden trunk where Logan kept the beer. "For your information, I think I have also fallen under a spell." 

Wade raised both eyebrows surprised, to which the woman smirked and pointed towards the cups. "Can I?" 

Wade grined and nodded. "Since we're being honest, a drink wouldn't hurt me." 

The lady smiled, taking two metal cups and opening the trunk to push one inside the liquid and fill it, leaving it aside to fill the other. 

The Howlett tent was made of yellow and blue fabrics, and the torch lights on the outside showed the different shadows of those who crossed or sat by the fire to converse and spend time between drinks and songs until the sun decided to rise again. 

"It's illegal," Vanessa said, drawing Wade's attention but not daring to look at him. 

Wade bit his lip, pushing himself a little with his good arm, so he could take a more comfortable position when the young woman returned to the bed with the beer. "Basically, that we're both talking about other loves than our own marriage, makes this whole conversation illegal," he said. 

"Mine is punished by the church," Vanessa continued, looking at Wade with her face wrinkled. 

"That would be the two of us," he added. 

Vanessa smiled, looking down at her drink, which she picked up for a big swig before sighing, and pointed at Wade with the cup. "Yes, but you're a man, it is easier for you. I, however much my father want it, do not have a cock in between my legs." 

Wade laughed, shaking his head and taking his own cup to his mouth, where he lowered all the liquor in one gulp. "You don't need a cock," he said, pointing with his own glass at the lady. "You're stronger than any man out there, me included." 

Vanessa beamed, entwining her arm with Wade's and kissing his cheek. "See, you're chivalrous." She then let the silence expand for a moment, while she watched the shadows of the guests outside and sighed. "We'll find the way," she said. "But I will not force you to spend a life with someone you don't love, nor do I plan to spend my life wanting something more." 

Wade shrugged his good shoulder, not knowing what to say, while outside the minstrel sang his chants. 

_"Listen here to what I am going to tell you,_

_the story of a knight and his veiled love,_

_whose spear was broken but not in vain,_

_for he could finally give a flower to his endeared._

_Oh love which he so covet,_

_is it worth more a cold crown than a single reflection of the sun in thy well-formed body,_

_thin and smooth,_

_fresh skin and high color_

_which the Gods fashioned with their hands._

_Oh dear servant of the knight's heart, whose eyes are honey and lips are spell,_

_will you grant him that joy which he awaits?"_

"I promised to teach him how to use the sword," Wade interrupted, clearing his throat. "I think he has potential."

Vanessa raised an eyebrow and looked at him with smugness. "And I think it's the first time in your life that you're afraid of getting hard during training." 

Wade snorted and Vanessa followed. "And you say I'm chivalrous?" he asked. "Don't worry, you get the title." 

Vanessa continued laughing, while the music of the [lute](https://youtu.be/G6wZa53B1Rc) played in the camp and the sound of the fire against the wood of the bonfire accompanied it. And Wade felt like a huge weight was being removed from his back. 

~ ° ~ 

The Council Chamber had a sumptuous decoration. The floor was covered with rugs from Harkanon, instead of mats, and in one corner there was a carved screen, coming from the extensive lands of Winghead, in which appeared a hundred fabulous beasts painted in bright colors. Tapestries of Cleri Gemma, Wakanda, and Vishanti hung on the walls, and a pair of sphinxes wavered in the doorway, eyes of carved garnets gleaming on the black marble heads. 

Logan continued on his way to the carved table that showed the map of Klariono, where some of the important Lords were already seated around. The king's chair, with the cushions embroidered in gold with the bugle and the sun of the Jameson, was empty in the presidency of the table. The old King occupied the adjoining chair, as befitted the right Hand of the new King. Logan, for his part, took the farthest place, because verbal duels wore away his patience. 

"I appreciate your presence," the old King announced, taking out some scrolls where there were some words that Logan cared little about. "There will be some changes with respect to the new king, including some lending of men necessary to enlarge the guard of the capital." 

"No one thinks about the guards of our people," Lord Anthony whispered at his side, earning a low growl from the Lord of Lupine. 

"And we put most of the money," Lady Natasha agreed, whispering like Anthony, while James continued to read the unimportant changes. Nothing gave Logan a profit. 

"You should be King, Logan, or maybe your son," Tony continued, smiling as he approached his seat. "How's that marriage going with Lady Vanessa?" 

Lady Natasha seemed embarrassed to hear this, turning in her seat and pretending to listen to the new King's Hand. Logan sighed annoyed when he noticed that Lord Stark was still waiting for his answer. 

"I've heard that the mystery knight is not so mysterious," replied one of the King's friends. "You must know something about it, Lord Logan." 

"Not at all," Logan replied in an icy voice. He was exasperated by the arrogance of the comment. "There's a reason why they wear only black." 

Sir Samuel of Falcon laughed, approaching discreetly to hear. "Are you interested, Stark?" 

"It sounds amusing," Tony replied. "But who will be more interested in the subject will be another, and not in a good way. Don't you think, Lord Logan?" 

"Not that it's your business, Lord Anthony." Logan hoped that would end the conversation, because the simple fact of having to talk about it made his blood boil. 

Stark smiled and Sam laughed again, Lady Natasha instead cleared her throat and decided to intervene. "I remind you that misleading words lead to war." 

"But wars will always exist," agreed the king's friend. "Thankfully you have a good and strong army, am I right Lady Natasha? You don't have to worry." 

"Not for long," snorted Lord Banner. "The king wants them all." 

The others laughed, earning a cold glare from Jameson. "Do you dare to disrespect your King's words?" 

Lord Anthony raised both hands, smiling and shaking his head. "Please continue," the King's Hand glared at them one last time, before continuing his reading. Lord Anthony returned to his place, not before whispering, "You should talk to Lady Natasha, before the crows reach Feles." 

Logan sighed, massaging his temples and closing his eyes. That afternoon was going to be long. 

~ ° ~ 

That morning, a young man named Clint, an unknown commoner from the high rocks of Ronin, won in the archery competition against Ser Charles Bernard and Katerin Bishop, at a hundred steps, when the rest of the archers had already been eliminated in shorter distances. James, the father of the King, sent Jeffrey Haight in search of him to offer a position in the guard of the Hand, which the young man accepted with a simple movement of his shoulders as indifference. 

Peter passed a total of seven times in front of Sir Wade's tent that morning, biting his lip and scratching his head in frustration at not knowing whether or not to enter. After all, he was just a servant, and unless he was called, his entry was forbidden. 

Lady Vanessa had come out of the Howlett's tent that morning, and Peter felt a discomfort in his chest, but decided not to give it much importance, especially when the beautiful lady turned and winked at him, making Peter feel more confused than the previous afternoon at the jousts. 

On his eighth pass in front of the tent, the Howlett's bald maester noticed his presence, causing Peter to look down and act as if he were on his way to the castle, but the man cleared his throat and said in a loud tone. "The young sir is better." 

Peter smiled, embarrassed, approaching to make a small bow, "Good afternoon." 

"Same for you," the maester nodded, smiling when he saw Peter studying his long chain. "Would you like to learn?" 

Peter looked at him with wide eyes. "I beg your pardon?" 

Charles smiled, letting out a small laugh as he reached down to grab a wooden box with his tools, but a whimper escaped his mouth as he let go. Peter hurried to the maester's side and helped him stand, taking the box to lift it instead. "I'm sorry," Charles said exhausted, "my legs are starting to fail." 

Peter smiled at him, shrugging as he walked with the trunk in his arms. "Don't distress, this is my job after all." 

The maester opened the fabric of the entrance to the Howlett's tent, indicating for Peter to go first. It was large, with closed spaces on the sides that corresponded to the nobles' rooms. In the center was a table with fruits on a platter, and a few wooden chairs around it. Peter tried to hide his shame by looking at the box in his hands. 

On the wooden lid was an engraving made with hot iron, where the emblem of the Howlett shone beside an X enclosed in a circle. Peter was going to ask, but the maester interrupted him. "I was referring to if you would like to learn the art of knowledge, about healing and history." 

Peter left the wooden box in a corner of the tent, biting his lip thoughtfully as he ran his fingers over the outer face of a leather-covered book. "I'd love to, but I'm just a servant." 

"Nonsense," interrupted a voice at his side, making Peter smile when he turned to look at the prince, who had just come out of his side of the tent, tying his breeches while pointing with his chin. "You can be anything." 

Charles laughed, shaking his head and bending down to open his wooden box, where he took out a couple of birch leaves and a bottle of cod liver oil, making Wade wrinkle his face. "It wouldn't bother me to teach you one or two things, young man." 

"I would be very grateful, thank you," Peter said with a smile as he bowed. Then he turned to the prince, who was covered with a red coat again, on which rested the fabric that held his arm. Black pants and the same leather gloves, although these were new, since Peter still had one of the old ones. "How are you feeling, my lord?" 

Wade shrugged, wincing a little as he remembered the one shoulder that was wounded, then tried to disguise it when Charles glared at him and Peter bit his lip to keep from laughing. Wade cleared his throat and leaned back against Logan's walnut desk. "I'm wonderful, ready for the training?" 

Peter frowned, looking at the prince as if expecting him to say it was a joke, but Wade simply smiled, pushing off the desk and walking towards the entrance of his tent, where they had their shields and swords resting. Peter then turned to the maester, who chuckled as he crushed the birch leaves in a stone mortar. 

"You must swallow this first," said Charles, pouring the leaves in a metal spoon and adding a spoonful of the cod oil on top of them. "Then you can go wherever you want, but try not to move your shoulder much." 

Wade wrinkled his face and Peter suppressed a smile, especially when the maester brought the metal spoon towards the heir, who swallowed as if he were a child. Charles nodded his assent and moved back to his tools. Peter bowed and followed Wade, who hung a long sword from his belt and stepped out of the tent, holding a shield with his other arm. "If you don't have a sword and a shield, then take any of the ones there," Wade shouted. 

Peter looked at the weapons on the ground for a moment, bright in some sections and worn in others, showing the passage of time over them, some more than others. All had the emblem of the Howlett marked on them, even with engravings on the thin blades of the swords, designs in vegetation, hunting or phrases. 

"They are not poisonous," Wade shouted, smiling as he waited for Peter next to a tree. 

Peter smiled in embarrassment and decided to take a sword and a shield, of coarse, well-polished steel, which denoted an expert hand, and which Peter would never have the chance to hold again, if he was realistic. They crossed the outer patio and passed under the rake that led to the courtyard, while some looked at them suspiciously and others simply ignored them. 

Once they reached the courtyard, Wade set aside the shield and turned to look at Peter, who was holding his own uncomfortably, waiting for some order. "Have you ever used a shield and sword?" 

Peter cleared his throat and nodded. "When I was little, I used to play knights with the King. He taught me some things that he was instructed, but nothing else." 

Wade nodded, studying Peter carefully. "Put the sword aside," he said, approaching where the practice weapons were. "I think it's best to see your techniques with the shield first." 

Peter responded with an assent, placing the sword on a stone and holding the shield in front of his body. "What do you want me to show you?" 

Wade took a wooden sword, and approached Peter to raise the shield a little more with the tip. "It is important that you don't neglect your neck, keep the edge close to it, but low enough so that it doesn't cover your visibility." 

Peter nodded, holding the shield hard. It was heavy, the ones he used as a child with the King were not half as heavy. Many times Peter had had to clean them and he took the opportunity to act like a knight with Miles and Gwen, but it had never been real. Wade smiled, throwing a thrust at Peter's side, which Peter tried to stop by moving his arm with the shield. 

"That's a mistake," Wade said, standing just behind Peter. "The shield needs to move as little as possible and one must cover ourselves by pivoting around it," he said, sliding his good arm across Peter's chest. "For example, if one is going to receive a cut from the right side, the shield should not be moved to that side," Wade rolled Peter along the shield to the right side, who staggered in unsteady feet. 

"Instead, one must turn with it, that will give you greater stability and," Wade intertwined the hand with which Peter held the sword with his, lifting it over the shield and lowering it like a lunge in front of it. "Thus you will have better chances of giving a thrust to your opponent." 

Peter smiled, returning to his initial position, this time with strong legs. "Alright, I'm ready, what else?" 

Wade laughed, it was the first time he saw someone so determined to learn. The heir took the sword that Peter had left on the stone and handed it to him, standing in front of Peter as he winked. "Still, that rule doesn't always apply, if I attack you from above," Wade raised the sword to lower it towards Peter's head, who raised the shield instinctively to protect himself. "Very well," Wade nodded, laughing to see Peter smiling under the shield. 

"I can do that and attack with the sword, right?" Peter asked, throwing his sword at Wade's side with little force, for his sword was not made of wood. 

Wade looked at the sword out of the corner of his eye and raised an eyebrow. "I think this is just your excuse to kill me." 

Peter chuckled and walked away while shrugging. "I cannot win if I don't attack." 

Wade nodded. "True, but there's armor in between, and a sword does not always go through them." Peter grimaced and Wade laughed. "Lift your sword in front of your head in horizontal and hold your shield to the front." Peter did it, to which Wade threw his sword against Peter's, not letting him move it. "What do you do in these cases?" He asked. 

Peter was breathing hard and looking at the sword, then he lowered his gaze at Wade, who simply smiled. Peter glared at him and pushed his body hard against the shield, destabilizing Wade and causing him to back off. Peter smiled. "That, I suppose." 

Wade laughed, nodding and wrinkling his face as he massaged his arm. "Exactly that, and it's the best you can do at the beginning of a battle. Defense." 

"Would not it be easier to end it all at once?" Peter asked, lowering the shield to observe Wade. "They always do that." 

Wade shrugged his good shoulder and rested the wooden sword with the tip against his thigh. "It's an option, but the best thing you can do is tire your opponent, watch their movements and learn, so that when they move, you're ready to entrench them and hit." 

Peter nodded, raising his shield again. Wade laughed at this, holding his still bruised stomach. "Have compassion of a wounded man." 

Peter laughed, raising his sword in the air and observing how it shone with the last lights of the day. "It's not my fault that you are unsteady with the spear." 

"Unsteady?" Wade repeated with a mocking tone, taking his wooden sword and pushing with the tip against Peter's shield, who staggered. " _You_ have unsteady feet." 

Peter glared at him. "It's the first time I've held such a heavy shield to fight." 

"Always leave your feet separated at the same height as your shoulders," Wade told him, again standing behind Peter and separating the boy's feet with one of his own. "And when you move, move in a way that your legs stay like that. Never have your feet close to each other." 

Peter looked at him over his shoulder then. "What should I grasp more strongly, the sword or the shield?" 

Wade hummed while scratching his chin. "Both are important, but in your case, being new to this, it's best not to neglect your defense." Wade lowered his wooden sword with little force against the curve of Peter's neck, then again against his right leg and another against his side, this time with the blade of the wood and a little stronger, to which Peter jumped and glared at him. "Missing a blockade or drift in any of the unprotected areas can be fatal, so take care of your defense." Wade said with a smirk. "And those blows will probably leave bruises." 

"Thanks for warning me," growled Peter, looking at his leg, which throbbed as it turned red. 

"You will receive worse blows in a real battle," Wade said, shrugging.

Peter sighed. "I know, actually... um..." he took a seat on the stone where he had left the sword before, interlacing his hands and biting his lip. "I wanted to talk about that."

Wade raised an eyebrow, sitting next to Peter as he massaged his arm. "About what?"

"I know that at the moment you can't teach me much, but in three days maybe I'll be ready," Peter said, looking at Wade carefully, the prince simply frowned, to which Peter smiled and cleared his throat. "You can't compete in the hand-to-hand combat, but another mystery knight could do so."

Wade shook his head immediately, getting up to walk to where the leather bottles were. "You're insane."

Peter nodded, following him closely. "Maybe, but I think it's a good opportunity."

"You can't even keep your feet strong!" Wade shouted, taking the leather boot with water that hung from a hook in the wood. "They'll kill you in there."

Peter shook his head, waiting for Wade to finish drinking water so he could drink too. "I will improve my defense soon, I'll practice day and night."

"They use real swords!" Wade groaned, handing the leather boot to Peter, who nodded.

"Mhm," said the boy around the mouthpiece. "But they also wear armor, you could lend me yours."

Wade looked at him incredulously, hoping that Peter would laugh so he could laugh too and make it clear that it was all a joke, but the brightness in the boy's eyes told him that everything was very serious. "Only the best compete there."

Peter nodded. "I know."

"They could kill you," Wade repeated.

"My defense will be strong," insisted Peter. "I will practice until I die of fatigue."

"It's only three days," Wade said, this time in a whisper, almost a sigh. "How do you plan to learn everything in three days?"

Peter smiled, hanging the bottle again and looking Wade in the eye. "I already know some things. I used to train with the King, remember? I'm fast, and I know how to throw sharp retorts."

"Those guys have been training all their lives," Wade reminded him, looking Peter in the eyes with affection, and hoping to push some reason into the boy's head, but Peter looked determined, like someone who knows he has nothing to lose. Wade sighed and nodded then. "Fine, but I'll have the best blacksmith in Klariono forge the best armor for you, is that clear?"

"You don't have to-" Peter started, but Wade glared at him so hard that there was no joke hiding in there, so the boy laughed. "Alright my lord, clear as water."

Wade nodded, walking back to the practice field. "What are you waiting for? We have to practice."

Peter smiled broadly, running after him and downplaying the purple fleck growing on his leg, because he would have more than one mark on his skin in the coming days anyway. "By the way," Peter said, raising the shield again. "What does the flower mean?"

Wade smiled, blushing lightly but trying to disguise with a shrug of his good shoulder. "When you go studying with Charles, he can help you with that, for now," Wade said, throwing a thrust that Peter stopped with his shield. Peter laughed and Wade smiled. "You better learn how to keep that beautiful face of yours intact."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I hope you have a great week :)
> 
> So, we are in february, the month of _love~_ (or the month of hatred towards pink and hearts lol)
> 
> But I wanted to ask, what's your favorite flower?
> 
> Thank you for reading, let me know what you think of the story so far <3


	6. Poems Speak and Songs Rumor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not edited yet, so sorry if there are mistakes. Hope you like it!

The wood of the humble house creaked with the passage of time, growing and changing as wood always does. The river beside it continued its way to the landing in the sea, producing sounds in each rock that its waters touched. And remote, on the other side of the city, the bells of the cathedral were heard calling for the major mass.

Peter arrived that day at dawn, and was already preparing to leave again very early in the morning. He did everything in silence, trying not to attract his aunt's attention so as not to worry her, but the woman was clever, and even before Peter had woken, she was already in the kitchen waiting for him and preparing breakfast. 

"I'm worried that you'll leave without having something in your stomach because you're so rushed by life, you didn't even eat yesterday," May said, sounding casual as she turned the eggs in a saucepan over the fire and took the bread out of the clay oven. 

Peter wrinkled his face in embarrassment, taking a seat and trying not to think too much about the time, because he only had the opportunity to practice a few hours before starting his work at the castle. "I'm sorry" Peter said, showing a charming smile for his aunt to believe him. "It's just that I've been busy." 

"Busy you have been alright," May agreed, placing the round and freshly baked loaf of bread in a basket with cloth, and eggs on a wooden platter to place both foods on the table. Peter's stomach roared, causing his aunt to glare at him. "Where have you been so busy anyway? With your secret love, the knight?" 

"Aunt May," Peter said, laughing as he shook his head and cut a piece of bread with his hands. "Those are rumors." 

"Rumors are just that until the involved parts begin to prove reality," the woman ran her hand down Peter's cheek, where there was a scratch with earth adorning his skin, the same cheek that began to blush when Peter noticed his carelessness. May smiled and continued. "And you do nothing but unleash reality." 

"It's not what you think," Peter muttered, now playing with the piece of loaf in his hands. 

May sighed, breaking a piece of bread herself. "It doesn't matter what I think, nor what you do with your life, but please take care, if you continue like this you will die of fatigue." 

"I'm fine," Peter insisted, chuckling when his aunt glared at him again. 

"You are so well that you do not even have the decency to get clean," the woman took the grapefruit jelly and began to smear it on her bread. "I hope that after you eat, you'll drink water from the river and bathe well behind the ears and under your nails." 

"As milady orders," Peter nodded, smiling when his aunt looked at him with narrowed eyes. 

"You're not doing anything that puts you in danger, are you?" May asked, leaving aside the food to observe him with soft eyes. "I would die if I lost you too, Peter." 

Peter bit his lip, a habit he had had since childhood and which his aunt knew how to decipher. May smiled, shaking her head and continuing her breakfast. "As long as you stay clean, eat properly and sleep as necessary, this foolish aunt of yours will stop nagging." 

Peter laughed, taking May's hand and kissing her fingers. "I will be fine." 

May nodded, she knew that any word would not leave her in ease because her life stoped being hers since the moment Peter gave his first breath, but she also knew that she couldn't stop her nephew's dreams. 

~ ° ~ 

From where he stood, Wade could see the line separating the castle from the forest, tall, thick trees, like a second wall parallel to the first, a natural fortress. Wade hadn't gone further than that border during his stay in the royal castle, but he had done so many times in Lupine, where life was lived in the forest and closed fields were only for visitors. 

Wade glanced across the courtyard and noticed a boy carrying three shields with some work. Midnight had been far behind, and there, by the fire, the revelry was just beginning to decay. Wade headed for the forest, covering his head with his hood and nodding to those who crossed his path and didn't care much about his presence. 

The road was full of natural imperfections, roots that came out of the ground and rocks and stones that decorated the road. Wade smiled, observing the bushes of elms, alders and poplars from where the river could be seen. There, a great oak with huge branches full of climbing plants, was striking right in the middle, like an island. 

Wade climbed up there, lowering his hood and letting go of his boot laces to make a great leap into the river, but the sound of the water being moved stopped him. Stealthily, Wade approached to observe, and found the most beautiful scene that his eyes had observed. Although Wade was sure he was bewitched, and according to the laws of love, whatever the object of his desires did was beautiful in his eyes. 

The young servant was inside the river, floating on the water with his eyes closed, while the sunlight that entered between the tops of the trees illuminated certain parts of his body, his arms produced ripples with the movement, and the features in his face were completely relaxed, while his torso was getting wet as the water rose and fell on his belly, lifting the few hairs that fell towards his... 

Wade stopped his gaze's jorney, turning immediately with a big blush marking his face, and cleared his throat to let know of his presence. "Good morning!" 

Behind him, several splashes were heard in the river, like those of someone who had just been discovered in the water, and given the circumstances in which they were, Wade thought that had been the case. 

"Sir Wade!" The servant gasped, still stirring in the water, though Wade was not sure what he was doing, for his eyes were now glued to the ground, in a trunk surrounded by moss and fungi to be exact. "What are you doing here?" Peter asked. 

"I'm not spying on you," Wade defended, although he immediately wrinkled his face. 

"That only makes you look more guilty," Peter said, the same words that Wade was thinking after having opened his mouth. 

"True," Wade nodded, still with his face wrinkled "But I swear that was not my intention." 

"Why are you looking away?" The other asked, this time the water was no longer stirring as much, Wade supposed the servant was watching him, so he raised the hood of his cloak again, embarrassed.

"Because I don't have permission not to," Wade said and whispered. "At least not yet." 

"Not yet?" 

"You heard that?" 

The servant laughed, it was a sweet sound "I did, sir." 

Wade smiled, clearing his throat again and kicking a stone with his boot. "Well, do not worry, I will not sneak." 

Peter laughed again, shaking his head and coming out of the water, Wade could hear it, feel it almost, the drops of water running down his body to fall back into the river, and he felt kind of guilty for imagining the young man in such a way. "Not yet then," Peter whispered, already out of the water where he grabed his shirt and pants to put them on. "But maybe someday." 

"I heard that," Wade shouted, causing more laughter in Peter "You're a mean man, young servant." 

"Were you going to bathe, milord?" Peter asked while approaching Wade, who looked back at the floor so Peter wouldn't see him blushing. 

"No, well yes," the heir shook his head. "I was just taking a stroll and found this place by chance." 

The brunet's shirt was still open while he put his feet inside his boots, so Wade decided to start his way to the training area without saying anything else. Peter then followed him, jumping while he finished putting the other boot. "We could come together one day, it's a nice place and almost nobody comes." 

Wade raised an eyebrow, looking at Peter with a smile, the young servant simply laughed, shaking his head and tucking his skirts into his pants. "You have no shame," Wade said, lifting one of the tree branches so they could pass. 

Peter shrugged, crossing under the branch and combing his unruly hair "And how is your shoulder, sir?" 

"Better," Wade admitted, though only the night before, maester Charles had had to rearrange it and hold it more tightly. It was not necessary to add that the medicinal dose for his pain doubled. "Kind of better," Wade added. 

Peter looked at his arm with his mouth wrinkled in guilt, as if he could read Wade's thoughts. The heir sighed and without much thinking, he stroked Peter's cheek, who looked at him somewhat surprised. Wade noticed his action and almost immediately dropped his hand and continued on his way. "Don't stress, I willingly agreed to help you." 

"Besides," Wade continued, leaving behind the leafy trees to make way for the gravel and sand that led to the stables. "Today I have someone much more prepared to help you with the training." 

Peter looked at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer, but Wade simply smiled at him, taking a boot filled with water from the wooden wall and walking towards the training field. "They are probably already waiting for us." 

~ ° ~ 

Logan observed how, in the dim light that preceded the dawn, Sir Vision went out to stretch his legs next to his wife Lady Scarlett, who carried a book under her arm. Logan could swear that this morning was the hottest and most suffocating of all the time he and his people had been in Klariono, although he could also swear that he thought that every time the sun rose in the capital city. 

The crows had arrived that morning, the lord of the lands of Feles had announced his presence within 3 days after dawn, they had already traveled a day and one night, so he would probably arrive for the final celebration of the tournament. Sir Burt Carlysle wanted to meet with Logan soon, as there were _issues to discuss._  

Logan was very aware of what those issues were about, and he had no enthusiasm for bringing the date forward. Sir Burt had made it clear that "the issues to be discussed were of benefit to both." Logan had never liked the Lord of Felles, the man moved where the money took him, and he rarely took the right decisions, if he had, his daughter would not be in the position of a cow looking for someone to buy her as one who doesn't have dignity. 

Although he liked Vanessa, the young princess knew, unlike her father, how to make decisions that did not bring more than riches to her family, although her father never recognized it. Now that the love rumors surrounding the young Lady had come out of mouths with no strings, Logan was sure that the news had reached Lord Burt, who was religious only when it benefited him. 

Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, and Logan wiped them with the back of his hand, mumbling under his teeth about the disgusting heat of the day. A girl with blue eyes and blond hair approached to offer him refreshment with a leaf, but Logan shook his head, he liked to think that he still had some dignity left. 

"I can escort you to the tavern so you don't suffer with the sun, my lord," the girl offered with a smile, as she looked at the suitcase at the entrance to the Howlet camp, which contained some of Charles's tools. 

Logan chuckled, raising his hand to stop her and pointing toward the tent. "Go and ask him if he lets you watch, Charles loves to show off his artillery." 

The girl smiled broadly, making a quick bow before heading off to the camp, Logan laughed again and walked away towards the tavern, ignoring any Lord and Lady who crossed his path unless a greeting was absolutely necessary, and so he crossed the main entrance of the palace to escape among ordinary people and their routinary activities. 

The tavern was next to the brothel, where a beautiful woman winked and smiled at him, she was lacking a tooth and half an ear, but Logan had never been a man of great luxury anyway. 

Once inside the local tavern, his friend Christopher Nord, a former knight of the Royal Guard and a respected mercenary in the present days, was drinking a long jar of beer while watching as one of the escorting ladies pulled out her breasts to the air and laughed when the men around her threw beer in between both protuberances. 

"Put that back in your dress, woman!" The innkeeper shouted from the floor above, pointing with his finger towards the entrance, where some men of the Royal Guard were passing by. The woman, for her part, simply stuck out her tongue. 

"Bring me the biggest cup you have filled with beer," Logan told one of the boys in charge of the tables, placing four silver soles in his shirt pocket. The boy made a small bow, holding plates and glasses in his arms and head, and walked toward the kitchen as quickly as he came. 

"Logan, my friend!" Chris announced, or Maverick, as he liked to be called. He was savoring his beer, with that wide smile that marked his features, and his brown and untidy hair, with rebellious strands that fell on his forehead no matter how much he pulled them back. "You look like the shit I stepped on yesterday."

"That's how I feel," admitted Logan, taking his place in a wooden chair next to his old friend. 

"It's been a lot of moons, Logan," Maverick said, patting the Lord's shoulder as he offered him his beer, but Logan shook his head. 

"I already ordered mine," Logan released some buttons from his shirt and leaned back in the chair with a tired sigh. "Are you coming for the tournament? I thought you didn't like these things." 

"I don't like them, but it's a good opportunity to find love among so many ladies, or not so ladies," the man smiled seductively when the young waiter brought Logan's beer bowl and left it on the table. The boy turned around blushing as he continued with his work, Logan by his side rolled his eyes and took a drink. "Be that as it may, stories run, poems speak and songs rumor, and I wanted to tell you what the wind has whispered in my ear," Maverick continued, relaxing on his chair as well. "it's information that works for you." 

Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for the rest, but Maverick simply took another swig of his beer. "There's plenty of time for that," he said with a grin "For now, let's talk about the old days, _milord_." 

~ ° ~ 

Peter understood that Wade couldn't help him train with his injured shoulder, he wrinkled his face every time the young heir made some wrong move and something didn't sound right. What Peter did not understand was whether Wade was serious when they crossed the corner and with his hand pointed to Lady Natasha, dressed in simple clothes, trousers and a blouse, and Lady Vanessa, who wore a summer dress. 

"Young servant, I present to you Lady Vanessa of Feles and Lady Natasha from Nigrum Viduae, the latter will be the one who will help you with your training today." 

Peter opened his eyes in surprise, looking at Wade for a moment and then turning his gaze back to the ladies, bowing. "My ladies," he said, clearing his throat and blushing a little. 

The other two women nodded in a greeting. "Good morning, young servant, I suppose you have a name?" Lady Natasha asked, but Wade shook his head.

"He does, but I still cannot know." Both women looked at him with a raised eyebrow and Wade winked "That's why I need you to train him well." 

Peter smiled, still not quite knowing what was happening, while Wade pulled him to put on a leather vest that imitated a suit armor. Peter looked at him still confused, trying to find some explanation. Wade looked at this and laughed "What is it?" 

"What is it?" Peter groaned in a low and threatening tone. "She's a lady." 

"We're all a lady somewhere inside us, young man," Wade said, shrugging his shoulder as he wiped the vest with his hands. 

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed "That's not what I mean and you know it." 

Wade laughed again and raised his hands to now clean Peter's dirty chin, who blushed, "Come and I'll explain," said the heir of Lupine, walking to the training ground where he handed his cloak to Peter. "Lady Natasha is the best swordswoman of her reign, and not because men let her win." 

Wade took his wooden sword and quickly threw it at Natasha, who stopped him with the blade of hers, immediately throwing a blow to his side, causing Wade to wrinkle his face. "So much strength wasn't necessary." 

Natasha laughed and shrugged, placing the wooden sword over her shoulder "You attacked me by surprise." 

Peter smiled at this, approaching to pat Wade's shoulder, who sighed and continued talking, redirecting his attention back to Peter. "As I'm still badly hurt, I can't help you much, Baby boy." 

"Do not worry, he will be in good hands," Lady Natasha assured, taking the other wooden sword and throwing it to Peter, who took it and looked at her still somewhat insecure. "Come on, you will not be the first man I fight." 

Wade stood up and winked at Peter, who smiled and shrugged, standing in front of Natasha, who grined proudly and bowed, Peter did the same, and as soon as he stood up straight, Lady Natasha threw a lunge at his leg, which Peter managed to dodge by pure luck by jumping to the side. 

"You're fast," Nat said, removing a hair from her face and placing it gracefully behind her ear. "The more you touch the sole of your foot on the floor, the firmer you will be on the ground, which will give you more strength for your attacks." 

Natasha dragged her boots over the ground and struck the tip of her sword into Peter's stomach, barely touching. "To keep your balance, try to slide on your feet instead of lifting them and taking steps."

Peter did as he was told, sliding both feet and throwing a thrust at Natasha's side, sinking the tip into the blouse the lady wore. Peter gasped, pulling the wooden sword away from the Lady and approaching to apologize. "I should not have thrown so hard."

Natasha groaned and pushed Peter with her shoulder, dealing blows with her sword on the sides, legs and arms of Peter, who cringed in confusion, before a strong blow made him shudder and take his sword to try to defend himself, stopping every blow thrown by the woman and even striking his own.

Natasha smiled and swirled to throw her sword at Peter's feet, destabilizing him and making him fall on his bottom. The brunet looked up breathlessly and with wide eyes, while Natasha kept the tip of her sword pointing at Peter's nose. "I was born in a land where being a warrior is the greatest honor. Since I was a girl my parents have trained me to be the best in the field, I have trained and beaten the best in my kingdom, and you think that a simple practice with wooden swords will make my knees tremble?"

Peter shook his head, really embarrassed, at which Natasha nodded, lowering her sword and smiling as she offered her hand to help Peter get to his feet. "It's not that I think less of you because you're a woman," Peter said between pants of breath. "My aunt is my greatest inspiration, but you must understand that I am only a servant and my life depends on your orders."

Lady Natasha smiled fondly and tucked the collar of Peter's shirt. "Don't worry, young servant," she said, standing back in a defensive position. "I do not give out a warrior. And if an order is what you seek, then I order you to fight with all you have."

Peter grined more freely, giving another bow and raising his sword. "It will be an honor to fight you."

Natasha laughed proudly and pulled her sword up. "Likewise, it will be a pleasure for me to show you the parts of the body that most destabilize your opponent."

Lady Vanessa and Wade on the other hand, kept silent while the astonishment made them even blush, Lady Vanessa for different reasons. Wade shook his head and sighed, keeping his eyes focused on Peter's movements, and leaning against a wall behind him. "That woman must be a beast in bed."

"You have no idea," Vanessa admitted, and they both began to giggle in silence so as not to distract the other two.

~ ° ~

Having finished the training, the four went to the river, where the ladies undressed, leaving only their bras and long under pants, and went into the water forgetting the men who accompanied them, while they kissed and buried their bodies within the crystal water to continue their game there.

Peter looked at Wade in shock, expecting the prince to be offended, but instead he seemed happy and unimpressed as he little seemed to mind, until he noticed the servant's gaze and smiled. "Oh for the Gods!" Wade opened his eyes wide "I think my future wife is committing treason, what do you think?"

Peter frowned and Wade laughed. "They'll keep your secret," Wade said, letting go of the laces of his boots and releasing the cord that held his shoulder to remove the cloth. "I think we could do the same for them."

"Doesn't it bother you?" Peter finally asked, also taking off his boots and pants to be left only in shorts and his white shirt no longer so white. Wade shrugged and wrinkled his face when his shoulder moved involuntarily.

"It would bother me more if she was not happy," he confessed, tying the fabric back over his shoulder and shirt, which he decided not to take off, nor his pants. His body was still covered in scars very much to his misfortune.

Peter smiled shyly and looked towards the river, where both women laughed and threw water at each other. "What will happen if she decides that her happiness will never be with you?"

Wade sighed and walked over to the water to dug his feet in it, shivering at how cold it was. Peter came over, biting his lip and feeling guilty for asking about matters that were clearly none of his business. He felt that his words were the work of something similar to jealousy, for that happiness that he did not seem to be able to receive. Peter decided the best he could do to amend his mistake was to apologize, but before he could, Wade spoke with determination and a tinge of ambition. "She has made a decision and I already did as well."

Peter didn't want to push on the matter, so he decided to enter the river and change the subject. "Since the training is over," Peter said, wetting his arms and smiling without looking at the other "What will you tell me about the flower?"

Wade snorted, entering the water too and wetting his clothes and the fabric that held his shoulder, maester Charles would not be happy, but the man was already used to Wade giving him headaches. "We could go to my tent tonight and Charles will lend you the books he has regarding flowers."

Slowly, the heir approached Peter, watching as the little light of the afternoon illuminated the playful smile on the brunet's face. "Are you trying to get me into your bed, my lord?" Peter asked, laughing when Wade tsked his tongue.

"The nights are cold in Klariono," Wade said, moving closer to Peter, who simply smiled, observing Wade's face with a mixture of various emotions, and Wade was overwhelmed to see that none of these denoted disgust.

"Not as cold as in Lupine, I've heard," Peter reminded, feeling the young heir's breathing already very close, but not enough. "And if what you want is for me to read, I do not need distractions."

"If you need to stay awake," Wade said, watching Peter catch his lower lip between his teeth "I know many ways to help you."

Peter laughed, that sweet sound that was becoming his favorite, there was no harp, flute or lute to be compared. Peter stretched his hand to Wade's cheek, who flinched and tried to move away, but Peter shook his head. "People say things and their words hurt. I know that is your case, but your scars are like a bard reciting different poems, and I would like to hear them all."

Wade was silent, watching Peter as the boy caressed his arms, climbing up to Wade's neck and feeling every bump under his wet shirt. When the servant reached his neck, he slowly walked the path with the tips of his fingers to reach Wade's lips, where Peter stopped and smiled, stroking and lowering his hand back to the water. "But you said it yourself, my lord, _not yet_."

Peter sank under the water to stifle his laughter when seeing the perplexed expression on the heir's face, moving away towards the edge. "It would be better if you bathe fast, sir, other knights usually come to the river at this time."

The other two women who had watched the whole act, began to laugh as well, covering their mouths when Wade glared at them.

~ ° ~

Once the river was filled with spectators, the four decided to return to the camp, where Lady Natasha followed Vanessa to her tent and Peter continued with Wade to enter the Howlett's one. Charles was sitting at the table next to Gwen, who had her face buried in the papers with scriptures that recited history in several languages.

When Wade and Peter entered, the girl opened her eyes wide and blushed, standing up and bowing in the heir's direction "Good evening, sir."

Peter blushed, knowing this would only increase the jokes of his friends towards him. Wade answered the girl's greeting with a nod of his head, and greeted Charles in the same way, bringing Peter closer to the table. "The boy wants to learn about flowers, Charles."

The flush on Peter's face increased when Gwen looked at him with that smile of someone who has discovered a well-kept secret. The maester for his part took one of his books from a trunk and dusted it off, placing it on the table and inviting Peter to come closer. "This has just what you're looking for," Charles said, winking at him.

Peter smiled and took the book, glaring at Gwen, who giggled. At that moment Lord Logan entered the tent, raising an eyebrow as he met two servants reading in his rooms. Both servants did a curtsy, and Gwen walked towards the entrance, smiling at the maester. "Thank you for so many lesons, maester Charles," said the girl, clearing her throat and looking with shame at the Lord of Lupine, who cleared his throat as well and nodded his farewell.

Peter felt uncomfortable in the same way and made his own reverence, turning towards the maester while smiling timidly. "Tomorrow I'll come to return the book."

Charles nodded and smiled, Wade on his part cleared his throat and walked towards the entrance with Peter. "I'll go with him to make sure he gets there safely and-"

Peter shook his head, noticing that Logan had matters to discuss, things that royalty should keep within its walls. "It's not necessary, my lord, I can take care of myself." Wade pouted, but Peter had already gone out the door before he could stop him.

Logan waited a moment and placed the shield in front of the entrance so that others understood that no one should interrupt. Then the Lord cleared his throat and approached the table, sighing and massaging his temples. Wade waited a moment and decided to take a seat when Charles did too, both waiting for what the man had to say.

"I have news," Logan commented, also taking a seat and looking at both tiredly. "The Lord of Felles is coming, and even though this has nothing to do with him, I also heard that the new King will have to spread some blood."


	7. Times Ahead Are Not As Bright

Forty years had passed since, at that time King Heinrich Zemo, a man with complexes of superiority and desires of extreme greatness, had a single offspring, his eldest son Helmut, to whom Heinrich would pass the crown when Helmut came of age.  

Just two years were missing for the big event and the young heir to the throne was a boy of great knowledge and an air of greatness that made anyone feel inferior in his presence.  

However, one afternoon when Helmut went hunting with his friends and cousins, a tragedy occurred, and although the young prince was never found, the evidence proved that his life was no longer part of this world. King Heinrich decided with much pain, to name the son of his closest friend as king when he could no longer bear the weight of the crown and the pain he felt at losing his only son.  

It was like this that James Jameson became King and his son after him.  

Charles had more experience, knowledge and teachings than the two men sitting next to him. Charles had survived wars, infections and lethal fevers, the world was not as painted by bards and storytellers, and Charles wished he could hide those he most cared for from all this. Especially when he observed how, under Logan's eyes, dark circles were only growing over time, and how the scars of young Wade hurt more and more every day, despite the time that had passed since they came to life.  

But the world was cruel, and the creatures that walked on two legs and communicated through their tongues never managed to achieve true peace for a long time. There always had to be something that reminded them of the need they have to burn.  

"A bastard?" Wade asked, frowning and watching his father; because Charles knew that although Wade's blood was the job of another man, the heir's knowledge in life came from his mother and the man in front of him, who shook his head and sighed.  

"Apparently, it is Heinrich's legitimate son, whom his parents called dead decades ago when an animal left a simple trace of blood as evidence of the treason," Logan replied, crossing his arms and settling down in his chair. "I don't know if he really is the old king and his wife's blood son, but if so, the young man will come to claim his right as ruler, and I'm sure that Jameson will not allow a man who has only claims, to snatch the crown from his son."  

"And what can we do?" Wade asked, not wanting to mention the topic that worried him so much. Logan sighed and looked at Charles for an instant, and then turned his gaze to his son.  

"My friend Maverick will come in a few minutes to talk about it and give more details," Logan paused to take a drink of his wine and swirled the liquid in the cup. "I also invited two other lords and Lady Vanessa to talk about her father."  

Wade didn't comment, but he understood what those words meant, the weight no one wanted to lift. Charles cleared his throat and pulled the sleeves of his long shirt. "Lord Burt will be happy to see that his daughter created such a strong bond with Lady Natasha, especially in times of war."  

"A marriage is not always for love," Logan said, putting aside the cordialities and looking at Wade, who glared at the wood on the table. "It is almost certain that there will be a war."  

"You still don't know that," Wade said, in a low and distant tone. "As Charles says, Lord Burt will be grateful to have a support like that of Nigrum Viduae."  

"And what about us? Who will support us?" Logan asked, his tone higher than he intended. "Felles has a lot of fleets and they are close friends of Lord Vision and Lady Scarlet, who have great power on the sea. Lupine is a recondite place, but that does not make us invisible to attacks."  

"We will have Vanessa and Lady Natasha's support, I can assure you that," Wade insisted.  

"Lord Burt will never agree."  

"The union between both women will give power to the Lord of Felles."  

Logan took a deep breath and stared into Wade’s eyes. "Of course it will give them power, his reputation will be stained in the eyes of the gods, but in times of war no one cares who gets into bed with whom, or if the gods observe, right? So without a doubt, Lord Burt will be happy with all the army Lady Natasha can offer. But what do we gain from that?" 

Logan stood up and placed both hands tightly on the table to observe his adopted son with severity. "I hate having to talk like this, but if the rumors are true, and we both know that it's very difficult that they are not, how do we benefit from your future wife sleeping with another woman who enjoys more power than us while you fall in love with a servant?"  

Wade growled, also standing up to look at Logan with the same severity as the Lord, but Logan ignored him and kept talking. "I'd gladly tell you that love and happiness are the most powerful weapon in the world, but in times of war fairy tales do not exist."  

"And who better than you to know that, right?" Wade asked with a snarl. "The man who abandoned my mother for power."  

"It was not for power, but for duty to my house." Logan defended, although his words kept sounding like an excuse in his head and guilt would never stop chasing him.  

"Do you know how many years she suffered?" Wade asked, clenching his hand into a fist. "There were nights when she said your name in her dreams, and every time she prayed she included you in her litanies to beg that you were happy." Logan looked away and Wade let out a barely audible laugh scarce of happiness. "Lupine has resources, secret lands and faithful men like no other kingdom has. Any intelligent house would beg to make an alliance with us."  

Wade nodded to both men and walked away to his room. "I will go to sleep, my shoulder hurts and I want to be in my best for the last days of the tournament."  

"I'll bring you the medicine in a moment, Sir Wade," Charles said, but Wade shook his head.  

"I'm fine, I think I just need to rest for-"  

"I always wished her the best in life and that she didn't lack happiness," Logan interrupted, sighing as he took a seat again. "I've never been a man to kneel for beings I do not believe in, but the day I learned that your mother had fallen ill, it was the first time I decided to do it. I prayed day and night so that the gods would restore her health, I offered my life in return as long as she recovered, but I suppose the gods do not listen to who can barely remember their names."  

The Lord of Lupine looked at Wade again, who was staring at him with an unreadable frown. "The last time we spoke, I asked you to choose an option that didn't lead us to war, but now war is already at a distance of a few moons." Logan filled his glass of wine again and swirled the liquid with his hand. "Now I ask you to please make a decision that does not bring us enemies."  

"I've already made my decision," Wade said, without hesitation.  

"Then find a way for that decision to benefit us."  

At that moment a throat clearing was heard by the entrance, attracting the attention of the three men inside the tent. Maverick smiled and bowed slightly, purely appearance, for neither he nor any of the others cared about formalities at the time. "I guess I came at a bad moment?" the mercenary asked, entering anyway and having a glass of wine.  

Logan shook his head and Wade continued his way to the bedroom. "I'll be ready in a few hours, I really need to rest."  

Logan nodded and Charles began to prepare the medicinal plants that the maester was sure Wade needed, nodding his greeting to Maverick, who raised his glass and winked. "I like the boy, he has your eyes."  

Logan glared at him and Maverick chuckled, "Did you tell him?"  

The Lord of Lupine stared down into his wine and saw his reflection was clearer than the crystal in his vanity. "He's in love with a servant."  

"So I've heard," Maverick admitted, shrugging when Logan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "I already told you that rumors fly, besides, I don't blame him, just before coming here I was polishing my dick in the storehouse of the tavern. Capital city's boys have a sweet that is hard to deny."  

Logan snorted and decided not to comment on it, he himself felt that his body demanded the company of a warm body by his side that would take away his worries for at least one night. But he would have time for that later, at the moment he needed to accommodate his thoughts before his meeting with Lord Stark and Lady Natasha.  

"Have you seen him?" The Lord of Lupine asked, leaning back on the chair with a sigh.  

"The servant?" Maverick asked, eyebrow raised. "After what happened in the jousts, there is nobody in the capital city that doesn't know about him."  

Logan laughed and shook his head. "I was talking about the young man who claims to be the real king," the Lord smiled and took another swig of his beer. "But since we are talking about the subject, I must admit that Wade is brave and stupid. If it were not for Lupine being an important house, the church would have asked for his head decades ago."  

"I remember a man around his age doing the same thing at the trumpet tournament," Maverick teased, laughing when Logan rolled his eyes.  

"I was young and stupid."  

"And in love," Maverick reminded. "I understand that you want the best for the boy, he looks a lot like his mother and she meant everything to you, but you can only be young once in your life, Logan, and that boy has the same look you had in those years."  

Logan sighed, nodding and closing his eyes in thought. "That's what I'm afraid of."  

~ ° ~  

When Peter entered the barn, Ben was the first to receive him, whinnying and standing on two legs as if reminding Peter of his majestic presence. But there was no need for him to do it, Peter was very aware of where he should direct his attention.  

Last night after spending a few readings trying to find the meaning of the flower in the enormous book that the Maester Charles lent him, sleep had won and Peter was immersed in a long dream, even waking up after the second chimes of the church.  

After the hand-to-hand combat, Peter would have enough time to study the book. At the moment he could only focus on what he had been practicing for so long. Only a few hours remained, the combat would take place the next morning and Peter felt his body vibrate with the many emotions that his body felt. 

Wade had managed to get the best blacksmith in the city to build his armor and have it ready for that same afternoon. It was a surprise for Peter, who had only had his measurements taken and asked if he preferred agility or resistance. Nervous was one of the strongest feelings in his head, but he could not afford to show that emotion in front of Wade, who was still not sure if he wanted to let Peter into the arena.  

Ben neighed and Peter sighed, continuing his brushing on the animal's back. At that moment Miles and Gwen entered the stable, Gwen leaving the straw on the floor and Miles looking around to make sure no one was close.  

"So?" Gwen asked, crossing her arms and looking at Peter with a smile. "Did I win the bet or not?"  

Peter laughed, shaking his head and looking at his friends with narrowed eyes. "Last night I went to his tent," Peter admitted.  

"I know, and?" Gwen said, biting her lip and feeling the invisible silver coin between her fingers if only she could win.  

"And we-" Peter said, even blushing.  

"You what?" Miles asked, approaching the other two to hear better.  

Peter smiled, covering his face in shame as his friends gasped. "We did nothing," finished the brunet, snorting to see the faces of his friends glaring at him. Mainly Gwen, who had just lost the bet.  

"You need to sleep with him!" Gwen groaned. "His manhood will become a rock."  

"You just want to win some silver," Miles said, patting Peter's shoulder and going back to work with the straw. "Even though Gwen is right, the Lupine's heir must have several offers."  

Peter bit his lip and took two wooden buckets to bring them to the water pit that was next to the stables. "At the moment I'm focused on other things," he said, not wanting to admit that Miles's words had ignited certain insecurities.  

"And what have you been doing?" Gwen pressed while continuing her labor.  

"Tomorrow you'll see," Peter said, laughing when Miles looked at him with a raised brow.  

"The mysterious knight will reappear?" The boy asked and Peter nodded. "But he's hurt."  

"With his arm like that it will be impossible for Sir Wade to compete," Gwen said. "They will kill him in seconds."  

"Maybe it's another knight."  

The unknown voice surprised the three servants, who jumped to see the source of the words. Wade laughed and bit his lip, approaching Peter to help him with the bucket he had already filled. The brunet smiled, while his friends made an exaggerated bow. "Good morning, my lord."  

"Good morning, you two," Wade replied, clearing his throat to disguise his lack of knowledge in the names of the servants.  

"Sir Wade, this is my best friend Gwen," Peter commented with a laugh, pointing to the girl, who bowed again. "And this is Miles, my pupil and friend."  

Miles nodded and offered to take the bucket with water from the hands of the heir, who denied with his hand. "I don't have a good shoulder but I still have some dignity."  

Miles laughed and shrugged, moving to carry the other buckets to the pit. Peter then accompanied Wade to the stables to change the muddy water, wanting to help the heir with his bucket despite Wade's stubborn protests.  

Gwen cleared her throat and looked at Miles, to tell him to leave with her, but Wade interrupted, raising his hand. "There's no need for you to leave," he said, placing the empty bucket on the ground. "I just came to tell the young servant that I'll be waiting for him tonight in my tent."  

Gwen opened her eyes wide, Miles tried to hide his laughter, and Peter blushed so hard that his cheeks burned with the same heat of the sun. Wade, on his part, noticed his words and cleared his throat, increasing the crimson on his face. "I mean, for some studies."  

"Of course," Peter commented, emptying the water in the barn and trying to ignore the giggle from his friends.  

Wade cleared his throat again and nodded, turning around and walking out the door. Peter bit his lip and looked down so he didn't have to face his friends as he made his way to the pit again. It was obvious that Wade wanted Peter to measure his armor and practice a little, but he couldn't say that because Peter had asked him not to say a word. The issue was that the heir didn't know how to lie and his friends were not stupid.  

"I hope you have enough coins, Miles." Gwen joked, making the boy explode in laughter and earning a glare from Peter.  

~ ° ~  

It was not the best first impression that Wade could leave on the friends of the servant, but when he announced the time of the brunet's visit to his tent, his words became entangled and a game of chess became war in his head. It was part of the spell, Wade could swear by his life that only a glance from those doe eyes made his legs weak and his tongue twist like that of someone who has had eight glasses of the best wine.  

He felt weak and brave at the same time, and there was nothing he could do.  

In front of his tent was now not only the Howlett's shield, but also that of House Romanov and House Stark. Wade took a deep breath and moved the blinds to report his arrival.  

The three lords and Maverick were sitting around the wooden table, Logan, Maverick, and Tony drinking ale while Natasha kept her glass of wine intact. The last two looked up at Wade's presence, Logan instead continued with his writing. Vanessa was nowhere to be found and Wade envied her.  

"Sir Wade," Lady Natasha greeted, acting with formalities as if Wade had not seen her in intimacies only a few minutes ago.  

Wade smiled slightly and tiredly, approaching the table to read the notes that Logan was writing so intently. "Reinforcement?"  

"It's a simple letter to keep them informed in Lupine," Logan clarified, putting the nib of the long pen sunk in the ink and leaning back in the chair to instruct Wade to take a seat next to Natasha.  

"No mean to offend," Wade said, taking a seat and looking at Tony, who snorted. "But what in the hells are you doing here?" 

"I know everything, Sir Wade," Tony smiled, shrugging and leaving his glass on the side. "Lord Maverick may have mouths that whisper in his ear, but I feed those mouths every night, and not only lent my ears."  

Maverick laughed loudly in a mocking way and shook his head. "First of all Stark, I'm not a Lord, I gave up that title many years ago." the mercenary stood up to pour himself another drink and took the glass from Tony to do the same without the lord asking him to do so. "And it's good to know that you like my waste."  

"We need them," Logan growled, glaring at both men and turning to Wade. "The both of them, House Stark has the best armaments and the greatest blacksmiths, both are essential in hunting times."  

"And who are we hunting?" Wade asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's betrayal to talk about war when it's not even a decree."  

"Not yet," Maverick murmured.  

"Even worse," Wade insisted. "I don't deny it, I like fights and the idea sounds tentative, especially because this new king needs to prove that he is not just a boy who dresses in gold and knows nothing about governing, but if anyone outside this tent knew the things that are spoken here, you know very well that your heads would be adorning the pikes in front of the kingdom."  

"Reason why nobody will say anything," Tony said, taking his glass from Maverick's hands and faking a smile. "I understand that Lord Burt is on his way, he will know more than anyone if the rumors are true, given that the only way to get to the capital city is by having passed Felles Lake, which can only be crossed with the permission of House Carlysle. Has Lady Vanessa not said anything about it?" Tony asked, looking at Wade and Natasha alike, both of whom shook their heads.  

"That man barely informs his daughter about anything," growled Natasha, crossing her arms.  

Logan nodded and sighed. "Maybe that's what he wants to talk about, we have a private conversation planned."  

"Maybe they crossed many years ago," Wade said nonchalantly, to which Logan wrinkled his face. "If they were smart, the Lord of Felles with costs would recognize them."  

Tony shrugged and nodded. "It's the most logical decision, but Burt is a man of money who remembers everyone who comes to their land."  

"They're pirates," Maverick announced. "According to what I've heard, they are men who roam through life to empty pockets, not fill them."  

"Then with more reason, Burt will know who they are," Tony mumbled.  

"It doesn't matter if he knows or not," Logan said, his tone tired as his face denoted. "It is known that it's a powerful group and I am surprised that James has not said anything."  

"That's probably the reason why he asked for men," Tony reminded, to which Logan tsked his tongue. "The capital city wouldn't be what it is if the rumors did not reach them first. What surprises me is that he hasn't started the hunt already."  

"He wants me to marry his son," commented Natasha. "Although I don't have that desire."  

"You're the first woman that I hear who has no desire to become queen," Maverick said with a snort, raising his glass and winking at her. "The power it would give you to be on the throne would be unimaginable."  

"I don't want the throne, I do not need it," Natasha said, smiling as she drank her wine for the first time all night. "All the houses, including the kingdom, want to have an alliance with House Romanov. Our army is the most powerful next to House Banner, who are faithful to my parents." Maverick smiled and Natasha returned the gesture with pride. "I do not need a crown, the crown needs me."  

Maverick let out a loud snort, Logan himself let out an amused chuckle, Tony smiled raising his glass and Wade kissed the woman's hand, who hit his shoulder while a blush rose to her cheeks. "That's why we need you," admitted Logan, closing the letter and handing it to Charles, who was listening in silence. "Send a crow to Lupine," the Lord ordered, to which the Maester bowed and went to his desk to seal the letter with wax and a seal with the head of a wolf.  

Wade sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking at the men with narrowed eyes. "I know James is a close friend of House Stark," said the heir, looking at Tony, who also observed him. "But why should it matter to us that this man takes the reign? What could we lose?"  

The other Lords, including Maverick, turned to look at Logan, confused because they thought that the Lord had already told his heir about all the details. Logan cleared his throat and settled back in his chair, while Wade looked at him with a frown. "What's the matter?" he asked.  

"The young man who wants war," Logan informed, earning the silence of everyone present. "Has certain alliances with people you will not like."  

"Like who?" Wade asked, a dry, hard tone. There were many faces who came to mind and none caused a smile.  

Logan looked to the side, with his hands turned into a fist. "Do you remember your grandfather?"  

~ ° ~ 

When Peter arrived at the Howlett's tent, the sun was lowering on the horizon and the reddish light of the last hours illuminated the three shields in front of the enclosure. Peter knew what that meant, so he decided to wait, but after a few hours in which Stark's men made certain indecent proposals and others offered him alcoholic beverages, Peter was determined to leave. 

That until the Lord of Ferrum, Lady Natasha and Maverick the mercenary, who Peter admired when he was only a child and Maverick a renowned knight of the Royal Guard, left the yurt and picked up their shields, stretching their bodies and saying goodbye to each other as they walked away to their respective grounds. 

Peter waited a moment, not knowing what to do since many people had noticed his presence, and that did nothing but increase the rumors of his affair with the heir of Lupine. The brunet took a deep breath and approached the tent, clearing his throat. "Milord? It's me." 

The tent entrance opened almost immediately, with Wade standing under the threshold and looking at Peter with a pale, tired face. "I'm glad you came," the heir said, even his voice sounded fatigued. "Please come in, the blacksmith is probably on his way." 

Peter nodded, glancing at Wade cautiously and entering timidly into the tent, where Lord Logan was picking up some papers he had on the wooden table. The Lord looked at him and nodded his greeting, drawing on his face something Peter never thought he would see in him, a smile, just as tired as Wade's. 

"I will have some rest," the Lord announced. "If you need anything, please don't interrupt me," said the man, stretching his back as he headed towards his chamber. 

Wade chuckled and sighed, approaching Peter and looking at him with bags under his eyes. "Did you practice today?" 

Peter nodded "Miles and Gwen helped me." 

"Very well," Wade smiled. "Forgive my lack of subtlety this morning." 

"Don't stress, they're never subtle anyway," Peter cleared his throat and approached Wade a little more, pointing to the chair behind them and smiling. "I can offer a massage, my lord, you look tired." 

Wade chuckled again, falling exhausted on the chair and taking Peter's hand between his, caressing his fingers with his gloved hands. "Being a lord is quite tiresome. I'm glad that title is not yet on my shoulders. I hope Logan is alive for many more years." 

Peter laughed and stood behind Wade, massaging the shoulders of the heir, whose bones resounded with every pressure. Peter could feel the stress under his fingers. "I wish I could help." 

"I'm scared," Wade admitted, leaning his head back to look at Peter. "I don't want you to get hurt tomorrow, and I know you're strong, agile and smart, but that does not stop my fears." 

Peter smiled, shaking his head and pressing between Wade's shoulder blades, causing a moan of gratitude. "You sound like my aunt." 

"Does she know about the combat?" Wade asked surprised, but Peter shrugged. 

"I think she knows everything," Wade laughed and Peter did the same "But just as I promised her, I'll do the same with you." Peter walked to sit in the chair in front of Wade, looking at him with those confident eyes full of pride that Wade had fallen in love with. "I will be fine, I promise." 

"You must kill them all," Wade said, sitting straight to be closer to Peter. "You better not hesitate for a second. If you must bury your sword in someone's stomach, or crush their heads with a mallet, you must do it." 

Peter cringed and Wade glared at him. "You better promise, Baby Boy, or I will not let you put a foot in that arena." 

Peter opened his mouth to protest, and just at that moment the blacksmith announced his presence and walked inside the tent, to which the brunet jumped up and smiled at the man, who looked at them confused. Wade grunted and got on his feet as well, greeting the blacksmith with a nod as the man pulled the armor towards the tent, which was covered with a cloth. 

"I hope it's to your liking, Sir Wade," the man said. 

"And I hope to see it smeared with enemy blood tomorrow," muttered Wade, to which Peter bit his lip and the blacksmith cleared his throat. 

"Do you want me to uncover it or will you do it, sir?" 

Wade motioned for the man to do it, to which the blacksmith nodded and pulled the cloth until the armor was fully in sight of both young men, beaming in front of the candlelight inside the tent. It was silver, with the accents and boots in blue, while the visor, breastplate, and mitten were adorned with red silver. 

Peter looked at Wade with wide eyes, as the heir of Lupine smiled proudly. "I chose the colors." 

"Wade," Peter said, leaving formalities aside because his words could not explain what he was feeling at that moment. "It's unimaginable." 

Wade could not hide his smile, especially because the servant kept looking at every detail in the armor. Wade approached the blacksmith and placed the promised gold coins in the hands of the man, who bowed and left the tent without further words. 

Wade then approached the armor to prove it's firmness with his knuckles, Peter, on the other hand, was taking the helmet to observe it more closely, placing it on his head and laughing like a child receiving a gift, his glee sounded drowned under the metal, but it remained Wade's favorite sound. 

"Does it feels good?" Wade asked, to which Peter nodded, hugging the heir without even thinking about repercussions. Wade froze in place, but Peter didn't let go, laying his head on Wade's chest. The heir had not noticed how small the brunet was until now, his head was as high as Wade's collarbone, who felt weaker at the thought of combat. 

"I do not have words or gold to thank you for everything you've done for me," Peter whispered, wrapping Wade's waist with his arms, who lifted his good arm to raise the visor and look Peter in the eye. 

"The only way to thank me is to come out alive from that fight," Wade begged, moving a few strands of hair that fell over Peter's eyes. "I would never forgive myself if something happened to you in there." 

"I wanted to do it, you didn't force me," Peter said, releasing Wade to look at him with a frown. 

Wade snorted and walked toward a cedar chest to take out one of his mail coats and placed it on one of the chairs. Peter took off his helmet and put it back in its place, moving closer to the coat of mail to touch the iron rings with his fingers. "I'll be fine," he whispered again, smiling shyly but sure of his words. 

"I have practiced day and night, I know the weaknesses of the body and the necessary movements," Peter put his arm inside the coat of mail to feel its weight, and raised his arm to show his muscles, which were half of Wade's own arms, who laughed but would not tell Peter. After all, the brunet's greatest strength was his intelligence and agility, and for that, he didn't need big muscles. 

"I know you will do more than good," Wade said, shrugging his shoulder. "But I have the right to be afraid. If the rumors are true, I need you alive to give me strength in the future." 

Peter frowned. "Why?" 

Wade smiled, getting up to open the tent and call one of the servants. "Are you hungry, Baby Boy?" 

Peter shot him a withering stare and crossed his arms. "Is it a riddle?" 

Wade smiled even more and let the servants enter to leave some food, lamb meat swimming in peach sauce, and wines flavored with spices. "If you win tomorrow maybe I'll tell you, but not yet." 

Peter rolled his eyes and blushed at the looks the servants gave him. "I'm starting to hate that word." 

Wade laughed loudly and closed the blinds on the tent. "Trust me, Baby boy, me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> Ok so, I know Zemo is a villain from Capitan America, but he's honestly one of my favorite MCU villains. In "Civil War" he managed to destabilize the Avengers with only his knowledge, using their mental weaknesses against them, so I decided to add him here.
> 
> And yes, of course the story that is used in this fic for him is different from the ones in the movie and comics, but I will try to keep the personality of his character as close as possible to the real one.
> 
> Also, I know that this chapter talks a lot about "politics" and that could be tedious, but it's important. I'm actually excited about the next chapter so I'm sure I'll write it faster.
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


	8. The Combat

His heart wanted to come out of his chest, his breathing was agitated and sweat was cold on his skin. Wade was sure that Peter felt the same, but the boy was so stubborn he would not admit it even if they put an ax over his neck. And it _was not_ time to think about axes cutting necks, not when the brunet was in front of Wade putting on the padded leather tunic, which Wade began to tie on his back. 

The armor was in front of them, while Peter watched with his lower lip buried between his teeth, as the other knights were heading towards the plaza, huge and holding more than one weapon in their hands. Wade was repenting, he was going to scream and start begging the servant to please not go in there, that Wade could give him the twenty thousand soles of the prize, but deep inside him, Wade knew that Peter wasn't doing this for the money. 

The boy raised his arms so Wade could put the chainmail over his head. "When I was little, my mother liked gardening, she spent hours sitting out there planting new flowers and medicinal plants," Wade said. "I think it was her way of running away from life, you know? Or from my father, my father was not a good man." Wade shrugged and Peter looked at him confused by the sudden conversation. "In any case, for wanting to be with my mother, I went out and I started planting next to her, we spent hours out there, watching the flowers grow, planting new ones and watering the ones that were already there." 

Wade smiled, remembering those moments as he passed the top of the armor between Peter's arms. "That's why I know so much about flowers. My mother taught me everything, even though my father insisted that it would turn me into a flower too, but what did he know. I was happy." 

Peter smiled. "Flowers are strong." 

"Very," Wade agreed, "my mother used to say that many humans are like flowers." 

"Like you," Peter nodded, laughing when Wade looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Don't steal my courtships," said the heir, laughing and shaking his head as he stretched red and soft leather gloves in front of Peter so that he could put them on. "Your spines are invisible, Baby Boy, but it's better that they are. That gives you advantage to be able to use them when necessary." 

Wade lifted the helmet over Peter's head and placed it carefully, biting his lip once he realized there was nothing left to put on. 

Peter raised his visor to look at him and smiled, although it was a smile that involved many emotions, and Wade would not tell him that the strongest was nervousness. "I think I'm ready," Peter whispered, clearing his throat and placing his new blue-handled sword in his belt. Wade had exclusively requested that the design be the same as a spider's web. "We could go and-" 

Wade took him by the shoulders, looking Peter in the eyes, who was gazing at him with a frown. The servant was about to ask if Wade was all right, when the heir inclined to lean his forehead against that of the helmet, observing the boy's almond-colored eyes looking at his with great care. "If any of the others hurt you and the wound is deep, promise me that you will get out of there so that Charles will heal you." 

Peter smiled and narrowed his eyes. "You did not do that when your shoulder was hurt in the jousts." 

Wade rolled his eyes and smiled, although he couldn't calm his heart. "It's not the same, Baby Boy. In a hand-to-hand fight their desire is to kill you." 

Peter let out a giggle and nodded, taking Wade's head in his hands. "Do you trust me?" 

Wade glared at him. "That's not what's at stake, Baby Boy. Do not change the subject." 

Peter ignored his comment. " _Do. You. Trust me?_ " 

Wade looked at the floor and sighed, thinking for a moment what he knew was logical, then looked up to observe Peter with an expression of defeat. "I do, more than I'd like to admit." 

Peter nodded and smiled. "Then believe me when I say I'm going to get out of there in one piece," he said, letting go of the heir and lowering his visor to walk to the door. 

Wade sighed again and nodded. "You better," he said, though none of that eased his worries. 

Peter was ready, and Wade did not want his own fears to flood the boy, so he gave a courting bow as a farewell and gained a laugh from Peter as Wade walked away towards the gallery. 

The place chosen for the combat was the outer patio. James' son was standing at the top of the stairs, overlooking the great marble square, surrounded by the Royal Guard. Wade took a seat next to Logan under a space enclosed by gold and blue looms, the Lord sat with his eyes closed, while at his side, Charles observed the young king. Wade just looked at the fighters, who were large in size and resilient in armor. Some had made the bad decision to wear many layers, which turned them into a slow prey. 

There was silence in the royal tribune, although this was not the case with the common people, who were standing on the parapets of the castle and were crowded on the steps of towers and turrets. Observing from the doors of the stables, windows, and bridges, from roofs and balconies, shouting and supporting those who the people had bet what little money they had on. So many were they, that the Royal Guard had to push them to prevent them from invading the arena. 

Always during the last days of a tournament, people were tired and wanted to see blood. Wade knew that. What he hated was the royal silence. It meant that the majority had bet on the same man. 

And it wasn't hard to decipher who it had been for. Ronan the accuser was silent under the shadow of the gallery, wearing the long green surcoat with the raven of House Kree. He wore a thick breastplate over the chain mail of black matte steel, nicked and scratched in a thousand fights. The helmet was in his hand, just waiting for the signal. 

The face of the accuser indicated security and tranquility. The way he placed his hand on the head of his war hammer showed that he was not new in the use of the object. All this did nothing but weaken Wade, who turned his gaze to where the young servant was, with his face covered by the visor and dragging his feet in the sand as a last practice. 

Wade felt his heart wanting to break the ribs that kept it from leaving. 

The day was gray and windy. For the first time in Klariono the weather darkened and Wade didn't want to think about what that might mean. The competitors entered the arena and settled in place. Wade turned to the servant at his side just as the King's Hand raised his hand and a dozen heralds played with their trumpets to silence the crowd. Wade needed a drink. 

The maid beside him ignored his call, and Wade understood why. It was the blonde girl, the friend of _his_ servant. Gwen, he had called her. The young maid kept her blue eyes wide open, glued to the plaza, watching a particular competitor while trying to stop the tremor in her hands. 

Wade cringed and cleared his throat, trying to smile when the girl looked at him very scared. "I think we both need a drink, why don't you bring me a bottle of wine and in the process you serve one for yourself too." 

Gwen did not seem to understand at first, maybe the shock interfered with her logic. The girl then cleared her throat and nodded, more by routine than by common sense. "Right away, m'lord." 

She was obedient and polite, and Wade felt like shit for sending her away, but if he didn't have alcohol in his system soon, he would try to enter the arena before the priest, with his tall, crystal crown, finished reading his prayers so that the gods would give strength to the combatants. 

A squire gave Peter a shield that protected half of his body, heavy oak edged in black iron. Many times they had practiced with heavier things and the servant had managed to handle them better than any other knight, and still Wade could not stop the nervous movement of his knee. 

The blonde maid returned with the wine and a cup, Wade lamented that the girl had not really taken another for her, but before he could comment on it, the sand in front of his seat was already moving, and Gwen let out her first gasp. 

A spear was fired in Peter's direction, but the boy received the tip with the shield and diverted it to the side, with wide eyes the servant looked at the spear, and when he looked up to see what had happened to its owner, Ronan had attacked the other man with a lightning bolt against his leg, breaking it instantly. 

Wade drank the liquid from the cup so fast that he felt his head spin, while the girl next to him leaned on the heir's chair. 

Beside him one of the Harkanon's men had taken a dark-haired boy and thrown him into the stands, leaving him unconscious instantly. Peter nodded perplexed, looking to the side and clearing his throat. He was not expecting a poem, but this was a massacre. 

Ronan raised the hammer again with a smile, to lower it on the chest of the man whose leg had been mutilated, but Peter managed to stop it with his shield just in time, covering the wounded man and feeling the rumble of the iron against the wood. 

"What are you doing?" Ronan asked in a grunt, eyeing Peter with a frown. 

"The man is already hurt, let them take him, why do you want to kill him?" 

Wade slid his hand down his face, muttering profanations under his breath, while Logan looked at him with raised eyebrows and bewilderment at the servant's actions. 

Ronan snorted and threw the hammer again, this time right next to Peter, who managed to dodge quickly. "You must be one of the new prey," Ronan commented, taking the sword from the man whose leg he had broken, and sliced it in his neck when Peter was distracted, killing him almost immediately. "More lamb for the feast." 

Peter grunted, picked up his sword swiftly and threw it at him, causing a creak of metal against metal as the tip slid down Ronan's breastplate, tearing his doublet and leaving a bright scratch on the steel below. 

Ronan looked down at his armor, and when he looked up, his eyes were full of rage. The accuser began to attack with his hammer, being blocked only by Peter's shield, and stopping his thrusts only to split in two a fighter who threw himself over Ronan to kill him, thinking that Ronan was too distracted to notice. 

Peter stumbled and Ronan continued another moment with the man who had attacked him, giving Peter time to try standing up, but one of the men of House Romanov threw his sword against the brunet, who rolled to the side, causing the sand to stop the cut that should have opened Peter from his shoulder to his groin. 

Peter gasped and got up as best he could when he saw the man raise the sword again, stopping it just in time with his own. 

Wade glared at Natasha, who shrugged one shoulder and continued to watch the battle, as people around her shouted and applauded. 

For Winghead was fighting a man of medium height and intermediate musculature, who rushed at Peter's attacker, unconsciously hitting Peter's head with his boot and causing Peter's helmet to fall off. Peter gasped, and everyone in the gallery did the same, for his face was displayed for all those present. Lord Stark for his part laughed loudly, even though inside the arena everyone kept fighting. 

Peter had not noticed how bloody his surroundings were until the visor no longer clouded his vision. 

A mercenary threw a spear at the Winghead man and made him destabilize until he fell on one of the many wounded men. The mercenary then rushed on Peter, who stopped him with his shield and kicked his chest, pushing the mercenary until Peter had enough space to sink the sword in his shoulder. Peter knew that would not kill him, but it would weaken him. The mercenary grunted and took his sword, attacking Peter with the strength his body still allowed him. 

"Surrender!" Peter yelled. "You need to stop the bleeding." 

But the man ignored him, until thick hands took the mercenary from the head and embedded him in the wood of the railing. Peter opened his eyes wide and dodged a blow from the other against his head, but did not manage to evade the hand that took his shield and snatched it from Peter's hands, throwing it against the stands and almost hurting one of the spectators. 

Peter had only the armor as protection, and the giant of Harkanon did not give up. "Come here, little spider," said the man, smiling as he cracked his knuckles covered in blood. 

"The sword!" A female voice shouted at the side. Peter recognized his aunt's voice and felt a weight in his throat. 

About six paces away was a sword, stained with dust and blood. Peter watched the giant, and then the sword, the man was only three paces away and the sword was farther away, but Peter could run. He needed a distraction. 

As soon as the giant ran towards Peter, the brunet ran with all his might, almost reaching the sword, but the giant took him by the leg and raised him to the height of his head. "I found you," the giant jested, but Peter kicked him in the nose and threw sand into his eyes when the giant opened them. 

As soon as the man released him, Peter crawled to the sword and managed to grab it but not lift it. Ronan placed his boot against the blade and prevented Peter from brandishing it. The boy snarled, but another louder growl won. The giant came towards them with a lot of hatred in his features. 

Peter began to pull the sword harder, kicking Ronan's leg, who smiled petulantly, and as soon as the giant was close, the accuser raised his hammer and threw it hard against the jaw of the Harkanon's man, releasing Peter's sword to continue his blows against the giant. 

Peter's breathing was agitated, and his vision was affected by the sand, but suddenly he noticed that among all those who had been at the beginning, only the giant, Ronan and Peter remained, and the first was being knocked down by the second. 

As soon as Ronan was satisfied with his hammer, the man jumped off the giant's stomach, and swirled his hammer behind his back, watching Peter closely. "Your turn came, lamb." 

Ronan took a sword he found on the ground in his path, and threw it at the servant who moved aside, but Ronan did not stop, attacking everywhere. Peter stopped what he could with his own sword, throwing even one thrust at the other man's side. Ronan used this to tear the quixote in Peter's armor, and the tip of Ronan's sword saved the guard from the brunet and wounded him in the upper thigh. 

A kiss of blood appeared on the cloth under the chain mail, and Ronan had a moment to taste the vision of the blood before his knee was stamped on the ground when Peter kicked him and made him fall. 

The servant took advantage of this and pulled the accuser's sword away with a kick. 

"Fucking hells," Gwen muttered beside Wade, who was already finishing the bottle of wine and feeling more sober than ever. 

Ronan shoved a shoulder against his opponent's legs and made Peter fall on top of him. Both began to roll in the sand, between kicks and punches, leaving behind even Ronan's hammer. Peter ended up with his face against the sand, coughing in the dust and kicking the air, while Ronan held his head with one hand and took out a blade with the other. 

Before he could stick it in Peter's neck, the brunet opened his mouth and let two fingers of Ronan's hand go in, biting so hard that Ronan thought Peter had knocked off his knuckles. "Fucking bastard!" 

Peter pushed him and spat blood, grimacing at the view as he breathed hard, he could feel the dirt and blood in his mouth. "Surender," he whispered, with what little air he had left. 

Ronan's chest rose and fell with work, but a smile appeared on his face, before jumping on Peter and banging his head against the stands. The last thing Peter saw were black dots and an exaggerated white light. 

Silence spread throughout the outer courtyard of the castle, even sobs could be heard, until Ronan got up and raised his hammer in the air to show he was the winner. The tribune rose in cries of praise and excited applause. 

Wade stood up and immediately went down to the arena, followed by Charles, who carried the suitcase with his instruments. Even the King moved in his seat to observe Peter, who remained motionless in the sand. 

May found Wade halfway, but the woman could not enter the arena, so Wade was the one who jumped to hold Peter in his arms, patting him on the cheeks. Charles handed him the wine and Wade placed the cup against the brunet's lips, dipping the liquid into his mouth and lifting Peter's head for the servant to take. "Come on, Baby Boy, wake up." 

Ronan continued to circle the plaza, bowing and kissing the hands of the ladies present. 

Wade cursed when he saw that, wiping Peter's face free from the dirt and pushing more wine into Peter's mouth, who began to tremble. Wade opened his eyes in hope and laid him on the sand. "That's my boy, now open your eyes." 

"Peter!" May shouted from above "You'd better wake up, you promised me." 

 _'Peter,'_ Wade thought, letting out a tired laugh as he nodded. "You'd better wake up now, lest I learn your name on the bed of your death." 

Peter let out a little wheeze, but he seemed to have trouble doing so, so Wade breathed a long inhalation and put his lips to Peter's, pushing air into his lungs, repeating until the servant began to cough very hard, lying on his side and pushing out the wine that Wade had given him. 

Wade sighed in relief and dropped down, sitting on the sand, stroking Peter's back as the boy coughed, "You're alright," Wade whispered. "You're fine." 

Peter sat up slowly, and accepted the cup of wine that Charles had prepared again, with a hint of white willow to ease the pain and put Peter to sleep. While the boy was drinking and Wade was helping him, Ronan approached them both with a petulant smile and his hands behind his back. "What do you want?" Wade growled. 

Ronan bent down and stroked Peter's cheek, before pulling his hand out from behind his back to reveal a red rose. "Here you go, princess," said the accuser, taking Peter's hand to kiss it. Laughter did not wait around the arena. Peter turned red with fury, and was about to throw himself at the man again if it had not been because Wade did first. 

The heir to Lupine launched at the accuser and began to beat him, Ronan tried to defend while he laughed, but Wade had more strength and better reflexes since the accuser was already exhausted. 

"Enough!" The King shouted, standing up and arranging his suit spun in gold. "Ronan, your prize will be given to you, now fly off." 

Ronan stood up and laughed as he bowed, looking over his shoulder at Wade, who was about to throw himself over Ronan again if it had not been for Peter slipping behind him trying to stand up. The heir grumbled under his breath about how he would kill Ronan next time, and ran to Peter's side to help him. 

"I'm fine," Peter whispered, trying to stay standing by himself and being ignored by Wade, who used his shoulder as support. 

The King then smiled at Peter and nodded his admiration. The brunet was going to smile wide, but then he remembered the dirt and blood in his mouth, so he decided better not to. 

~ ° ~

May entered the room in complete silence. Peter knew that his aunt was probably angry and with a feeling of fear still inside her, so she stayed without saying a word, something she always did to avoid letting her feelings out.

Peter bit his lip while his aunt placed a plate of broth next to his bed, right next to the flower that Wade had given him, which was withering with the passage of time. May then went to fluff the pillows so that Peter was comfortable, and when the woman was about to leave, Peter sighed and decided to break the silence. "I'm really sorry."

May stopped in front of the door but did not say anything, so Peter decided to continue. "I know I promised not to do anything that would put me in danger, but look, I'm fine, everything went well."

"And what if it hadn't been like that?" May asked, turning around with wet eyes and cleaning them immediately so as not to show her weaknesses. "What if they had killed you in there, Peter? If you never had that helmet removed from your head, I would not even know it was you who died in there."

"But I didn't die," Peter muttered, earning a very serious look from his aunt. Peter sighed again and nodded. "I wanted to prove that I can be more than a horse keeper."

May let out a sigh too and approached the bed again, this time her expression was softer. "I thought you liked horses."

"I do," Peter admitted, shrugging. "But being a barn boy will never get us out of this life. I wanted to give you something better."

"Peter," May said, rolling her eyes fondly and taking her nephew's hand in hers. "I've never asked for such a thing. I do not need it."

"You always say that," Peter said, squeezing his aunt's hand. "But if I were a knight, someone from the Royal Guard for example, we could even have our own lands and a title of importance. You wouldn't have to work another day of your life."

"And then I would never see you, and you would always be putting your life in danger." Peter looked down and May sighed, brushing Peter's hair from his forehead, and trying to understand her nephew, a young man trying to follow his dreams and she did nothing but crush them. Peter would always be her babe, but May could not always have him under her wing.

"The King seemed impressed," the woman said, earning a small smile from the boy and a brightness that she had not seen in his eyes for a long time. "I will hate everything that puts you in danger, Peter," she admitted. "But that does not mean that I'm going to bury your happiness below mine. Just try not to die before I leave this world."

Peter smiled and hugged her, wrinkling his face and letting out a whine as his bruised ribs protested. May laughed and shook her head, patting Peter's leg as she stood up. "That's what you get for not listening to me."

A knock on the entrance door caught the attention of both in the room, May decided to go to answer the call while Peter went back to lie on the bed, deciding that when his ribs stopped throbbing in pain, he would take the soup.

After a moment of whispers in the kitchen, the heir of Lupine peeked over the threshold, smiling shyly and clearing his throat. "Can I come in?"

Peter smiled and nodded. "Please do."

Wade came in slowly, looking at the soup and pointing with his head, "Do you want me to feed you?"

"And lose what little I have left of my dignity?" Peter joked, laughing and wincing when even doing that hurt. "No thank you, I'll do it later."

Wade smiled in sympathy and approached the bed, pulling the only wooden chair in the room and placing it next to the bed. "I think asking how you feel would be like slapping logic, so I'll just offer this." Wade took out a small jute bag with dried leaves of some herbs inside and placed it on the same table where the broth was. "It's for the pain, you can put them in the stew or your wine."

Peter nodded and leaned his head against the pillow, looking at Wade and smiling fondly. "Why don't you read me the meaning of the flower?"

Wade let out a self-conscious laugh and rolled his eyes even though a blush was growing on his cheeks and ears. "I thought you had forgotten about that."

"Never," Peter said, frowning playfully. "I have the book in my clothing trunk, but because of the practices and all the work in the barn, I could only read a few pages."

Wade snorted and nodded, standing up and walking towards the small trunk made of pine. "Can I?" asked the heir, cordial as always.

Peter nodded, trying to hide his shy smile as Wade opened the trunk and pulled out the thick, leather-bound book with the engraving that read _"The Secrets of Flora."_ Once the heir closed the lid, he opened the book and began looking through the pages, returning to his initial place and sitting back in the chair. "I think it's around here," Wade said, turning the pages and carefully watching each flower, until his eyes lit up and he placed the book in Peter's lap. "Here it is."

Peter looked at the page, with a flower drawn with the same silhouette as the one Peter had on his bedside table.

" _Milk Vetch,_ " Peter read, smiling for he finally knew its name. He then continued to read and his eyes widened as he reached a certain paragraph. "Poisonous? You wanted to kill me?"

Wade shook his head, his eyes opening too, but unlike Peter, his own opened in panic. "No, I swear, that's why I gave you my glove, so you would not have contact with it."

"I could have touched it with the other hand and I would be dead!"

"It doesn't work like that!" Wade quickly tried to clarify.

"And when you gave it to me, you said that you didn't know anyone who deserved that flower more than me," Peter said indignantly. "Is that how much you hate me?"

Wade shook his head quickly, getting up from his chair and sitting on the bed. "I swear it would not have killed you, the poison dies once the flower dries, and I knew the glove would protect you, apart from the fact that the one I gave you has a small size, it would never kill you, and-"

Peter started to laugh and Wade looked at him confused, making the brunet laugh even more. "I'm jesting."

Wade glared at him and crossed his arms. "You should consider being a buffoon, you're really spectacular."

Peter chuckled, blushing at his lack of shame, and continued reading, until he reached the line that indicated its meaning, smiling as he read aloud, though his words came out almost in a whisper. _"Your presence softens my pains."_

Wade nodded, clearing his throat as scarlet climbed up his face in a very defined blush, but he did not dare to say anything, because there was nothing to say anyway that was not already in that line.

Peter looked up with a delicate smile, and his cheeks were dyed pink, watching Wade with those eyes that could take the air from the room. "Am I really that much for you?"

Wade nodded and cleared his throat again, very briefly. "As I said, there is no one who deserves that flower more than you."

Peter looked at the flower once and smiled ever widely, sighing and closing the book as he slowly ran his fingers over the cover. "Today you stole a kiss from me."

Wade raised an eyebrow and Peter laughed. "In the plaza, I felt your lips against mine."

"I was saving your life," Wade said indignantly.

Peter laughed again, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, approaching the heir a little bit, as much as his ribs allowed. "I think it's not fair for I was not conscious."

Wade stared at Peter's face, looking for that fear he was always used to seeing when his face was close to someone else's, but all he found was a smile and eyes that showed nothing but shyness. "You know," Wade muttered, bending forward until their breaths mingled and he managed to savor that kind of contact that he had not felt for a long time. "I don't mind being a thief for those lips, _Peter_ ," he said, placing his hand on Peter's hip bone and pressing down there as he captured Peter’s mouth in a soft, chaste kiss.

When they parted, the brunet opened his eyes and looked at Wade, studying his face from top to bottom and making him feel intimidated. Their faces still so close, _but not enough_. Wade was going to pull away, but Peter bent forward again, joining their lips as he tried to get closer, to feel each part of Wade's body with his hands while their noses clashed and their breaths blended together.

Wade's lips slowly began to react, allowing him to be driven by the submission of the other, who let his lips slide and be captured between Wade's own. The heir groaned and came closer, trapping Peter between his body and the bed, while his hand caressed Peter's side, and the other was buried in his hair. Peter moaned and Wade gasped, letting go of Peter's lips to continue his travel around Peter's neck and jaw.

Both stopped to look at each other again, with dilated pupils and agitated breaths. "You should rest," Wade murmured.

Peter nodded, still looking at Wade with swollen lips and drunk eyes. The heir smiled and kissed his forehead before he stood up and walked out the door. Wade needed to go to the river and submerge his body in cold water. ' _Not yet,_ ' he reminded himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter I received a very unpleasant comment (which I deleted because it didn't contribute anything to the story) but I wanted to make it clear that:
> 
> If you don't like a story, just don't read it and that's it, there's no need to be mean to the person who writes so carefully for free something they like and share with others in hope to make them happy as well.
> 
> I'm sorry to unload this on the more nice reviewers, but it's been annoying for some time.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading <3
> 
> PS. Peter may not have won the combat, but he won Wade's heart...
> 
> Don't worry, I'll see myself out.


	9. The Light Within the Shadows

The winds coming from the sea raised waves that crashed against the dock and the large rocks that surrounded the coast, filling the capital city with that particular smell of summer and sea salt that fishermen loved and to which Wade couldn't get used to, wishing he could be among tall pines and humid earth of rain, not of sea. 

The boats moored to the dock swayed on the waves that reached the shore and almost touched his boots. Wade, Logan, and Vanessa were standing on the shore, their feet buried in the sand while the common people behind them continued their routines, without missing out on the opportunity to observe them, approaching from time to time to offer clams bathed in lemon, or fish of large sizes. Logan ignored them, Vanessa thanked them with a shake of the head and a polite smile, while with Wade they didn't even come near, for fear that his "disease" was contagious. 

Wade, for the first time in a long time, did not care. He was happy, nothing was going to break that happiness, not even the arrival of his future father-in-law to whom Wade planned to deny that title with gentle words, especially because that night would be the last Royal Dance, the farewell to the tournament so that each of the Lords and Ladies returned to their homes and gave way to the cleaning and restoration of gardens after the passage of millions of horses and mounds of knights. 

That night Wade planned to look for his favorite servant and kiss him, because once he had tasted those lips it was impossible not to want them again, and when he finished he planned to ask Peter to join Logan and him on the way back to Lupine. His aunt invited as well, they would be treated with the care that someone of high rank deserves because Wade could not simply forget what happened and return home leaving behind a "tournament love" like many other Lords did. 

A fleet of about seven boats could be seen in the distance, while Vanessa sighed in silence and adjusted the folds her dress as a sign of nervousness and anxiety, feelings that Wade understood but didn't share, for he had already made his decision, no matter what it cost. 

Logan remained completely silent, glaring at the ships whose wood was dark and with banners of blue colors that contrasted with the clear waters of the sea. Wade kept the hood of his cloak down the entire time, feeling the looks of displeasure on the back of his neck, but then again, he didn't care. For not only was the day hot, but he knew very well that his appearance was never liked by the Lord of Felles. 

Wade had been visiting Peter's house during the last days of the tournament, the boy was recovering quickly and was so stubborn to return to work the day after combat, ignoring Wade's pleas to return to his bed despite the boy's grimaces of pain whenever he moved wrongly when trying to change the straw or water in the stables. 

The day before, Wade had gone to his house with the intention of announcing to the young servant about his refusal to marry Vanessa, explaining each point so that Peter did not feel it was his fault, for despite the short time they had known each other, Wade could almost read his thoughts. 

"Don't do it," Peter had said, concise and shaking his head as he drank his soup without even looking at Wade. 

Wade extended the silence a while longer, watching him despite being ignored by Peter. "Why not?" 

Peter swallowed, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his nightgown and his eyes still glued to the wood of the table. "Because why would you do something like that?" The servant turned his gaze to his hands, which rested on his lap. "I have nothing to offer, Wade. It would be stupid to let an opportunity pass as big as a bond with Felles, only for a servant, and a man in that." 

"You're not just a male servant," Wade said, leaning over the table and extending his hands to Peter, who for the first time since the conversation began, looked up. "All my life I have let the world wipe their boots on my dignity. People despise me and still ask for everything from me. I turn away everyone who is kind and I hide from their eyes." Peter frowned and Wade smiled. "You didn't even shudder when you saw me the first time. You accepted me just the way I am, and you even allowed me to kiss you." 

"Vanessa and you were already together," Peter said, his defense method increasingly weak. "She also appreciates you as you are." 

"But she doesn't love me," Wade reminded, chuckling when Peter bit his lip and frowned more. "I don't love her either." 

Peter looked at the window and kept his eyes glued there, thinking, trying to stop his hopes. "Love will not give you power." 

Wade shrugged, standing up and walking to the other side of the table until he stopped right next to Peter to kneel beside him. The boy slowly lowered his gaze to Wade's face, but said nothing, and he didn't have to, for his eyes spoke for him. _Uncertainty, fear, insecurity and pain._

"I don't need power," Wade whispered, caressing Peter's cheek, who rolled his eyes. 

"You will be Lord of Lupine, Wade," the brunet said, his voice barely audible, husky. "Your future is not working on a farm or being the apprentice to a blacksmith, you are to be _Lord_ , you can't afford to-" 

"I've never decided anything on my own until now," Wade said, approaching Peter's nose. Peter looked to the side, feeling weak, to which Wade responded by moving his head so that Peter had to look at him. "I'm going to do this for me, because you've made me see that I deserve it, _you_ deserve it." 

"Wade," Peter sighed, shaking his head and looking into his lap. "Nobody would take you seriously." 

"When have they?" Wade asked, laughing when Peter smiled and rolled his eyes. 

"Gods, you never lose," the brunet complained, raising his hands to Wade's face and holding him there, looking straight into his eyes. "Please do not make them kill you," he whispered. "Your words do nothing but open wounds of hope because there's nothing I want more than being able to be with you. But I'm realistic." 

Wade shook his head and shortened the distance to kiss Peter so he could erase his insecurities, wrapping his arms around the boy's waist and pulling him to the edge of the chair to feel him closer. Peter moaned and Wade groaned, delving his lips around Peter's face until his forehead rested on the boy's. Peter looked at him confused and Wade smiled. 

"You're not realistic, you're conformist and pessimistic," Wade told him, patting Peter's buttock, who glared at him. 

"I probably am, but that has kept me alive all this time," Peter admitted, standing up and walking away to the back door to throw the leftover bread on the ground, leaving Wade kneeling and alone in front of the chair. 

Wade looked at his black boots dusted with sand, remembering what happened and Peter's words. He needed to show the young servant that he deserved the world and more. He was going to achieve it. He just needed to be smart with his words. The ships reached the dock, and several men rushed to tie up the fleets, while the Lord of Felles made his appearance on the deck and smiled. 

Wade looked at Vanessa and the young Lady smiled politely, while a glint in her eyes showed the affection she felt for her sire. She approached the ladder where Lord Burt came down, and he embraced her with warmth and kissed her on the cheek. 

"How was the trip, father?" Vanessa asked, letting go so that Lord Burt could reach out to Logan and Wade, who shook his hand accompanied with a nod of the head. 

"Lord Burt," Logan greeted in a timely tone. 

"Lord Logan," Burt said, with a smile still drawn on his features. "The trip was nice, odd storms but nothing that we can't stand. Sir Wade, you have grown," the man said, turning to the young heir, who cleared his throat and nodded. 

"It usually happens over the years," Wade replied, trying not to sound petulant and failing without regret. "Fortunately for you, time doesn't seem to affect you." 

Lord Burt laughed loudly, giving a show as they made their way back to the castle. "Of course, flattering your father-in-law will give you more points." 

Wade turned to Vanessa with a frown, and the young Lady grimaced. "Father, I believe you've received my letters?" 

Lord Burt nodded, giving a cordial greeting to a young lady in front of a bakery. "I have, my dear," he replied, pinching Vanessa's cheek, who breathed irritably but tried to hide it. 

"It is rather strange," Vanessa continued. "I have not received many answers, and I wanted to discuss-" 

"Vanessa, my dearest," her father interrupted, looking at her impatiently. "I bring many gifts that I want to deliver to the King, although first I would like to stretch my legs. After a long time at sea, a man has the right to be exhausted." 

Vanessa sighed and nodded, to which Lord Burt continued on his way. Logan gave Wade a look and the heir got closer to the Lord of Lupine, slowing his pace so he could converse with Logan individually. "He's not happy," Wade whispered. 

Logan looked at him with that expression that doesn't seem to understand how Wade draws such relatively logical conclusions. "What made you believe that?" 

Wade glared at him. "But at least Vanessa has given him the news, the blow will not be so strong." 

"The blow will be twice as strong for us," Logan growled. "He has had more time to think about his prompts, Wade. I hope you are prepared." 

Wade grimaced and followed as the others hurried on. While the men accommodated the trunks brought by Burt in his tent, the Lord of Felles asked Logan to accompany him to the castle. "I want to greet the king, and I am sure there are many things we could talk about there." 

Logan said nothing and simply started walking, to which Wade and Vanessa stayed silent in front of the woman's tent, who sighed and shook her head. "I'll try to talk to him tomorrow morning," she said, placing a hand on Wade's shoulder, who frowned. 

"Do you think they're going to talk about us?" 

Vanessa shook her head and walked to one of the many trunks to look for something within the fabrics. "They will probably talk about the man who says to be the old king's true son," she said, taking out a dress from the trunk. "What will you wear tonight?" 

"So your father knows something about it?" Wade insisted, ignoring the question. 

Vanessa sighed and rolled her eyes, shrugging as she looked for a mirror. "My father does not say anything to me, Wade, you know it, I know it. The things that will be spoken in there we'll not know until Logan and my father return to the tents to change for the great royal dance." 

Vanessa turned to Wade and gave him a smile. "If the things that are being said are true, our marriage is the least of their problems." 

Wade bit his lip and sighed in surrender, sitting on one of the trunks as men came and went from the dock to bring the rest of the Carlysle belongings. "I told Peter about my desire to break the marriage." 

"Oh," Vanessa exclaimed, understanding Wade's sudden desire to have a concrete answer. The young lady sat next to him and watched the sunset. "What did he say?" 

Wade shrugged. "That he doesn't want to hold hope." 

Vanessa chuckled and released the dress with one of her hands to caress Wade's back. "Clever boy you have there." 

Wade laughed and buried his face in his hands. "Are you going to wear that dress tonight?" He asked, at last, choosing to ignore the subject as everyone was doing. 

Vanessa smiled and stood up. "It's lovely, isn't it?" she asked, placing the dress over her body and giving a few turns to show the fine linen that covered most of the low-cut blue dress. 

"You'll look good," Wade said, standing up, kissing Vanessa's cheek and walking away to his own tent. 

"And what will you wear?" Vanessa asked, to which Wade shrugged. 

"I don't know, but I'll look great." 

~ ° ~ 

"I look awful," Peter said, looking at himself in the mirror and wrinkling his face. 

May laughed and made a sound with her mouth to indicate that Peter was exaggerating. "Don't be ridiculous, you look elegant." 

"As elegant as a monkey," Peter mumbled, moving away from the worn mirror to put on the pointed gold slippers that the king had chosen for the employees that night. 

The whole uniform was new, made especially for the dance, with red and gold colors that combined with the king's selected garment of the night and the castle's decoration. The trousers were of red leather fitted to the legs, and the long shirt was woven in gold fabrics down to a little above the knee, fastened at the waist by a golden rope. 

His aunt had even filled some jars with water and aromatic flowers, and had forced Peter to take a bath with them, then combed his hair with oils and handed him scraps of cloth and rosemary ashes to clean his teeth. The process had been long and now Peter felt exhausted, sitting at the table while watching May finish her braid in front of the mirror, covering it with a wine-colored veil. 

"Are you ready?" May asked, stretching out her uniform, golden as well, and smiling as if it were her own royal dance. 

Peter smiled and shrugged. "There are a few hours left, May." 

"We must run to prepare the piles of food that will be served tonight and accommodate all the salons." May took an old sheet and threw it on the mirror, covering it before running to look for her gloves. "What is your job tonight?" 

"Serve wine, as always." 

May nodded and gasped happily when Peter pulled the gloves out of one of the cabinet's drawers. Peter was the first to get out of the house, waiting for his aunt as he watched the last rays of the sun disappearing on the horizon. May locked the door and took Peter's arm in hers, beginning their walk to the castle and greeting anyone who crossed their path. 

The streets were crowded with people, many servants who were also on their way to the castle, and others who carried carts with the meat, bread, vegetables and wines that would be offered at the dance. Peter hated it all, observing how in many corners there were families looking for even a crumb of bread that fell from the carts, while many of the dishes that would be served that night would be discarded. 

"Will you dance with Wade tonight?" his aunt asked, biting her laugh. 

Peter rolled his eyes, hiding his blush. "And let the bishop condemn us at the entrance of the church?" 

May huffed and immediately smiled when one of her maid friends greeted her from a balcony. "The bishop is walking around with harlots and you can't dance with a Lord?" 

"Aunt May!" Peter said, trying to sound serious in spite of the laughter that escaped his lips. "You talk too loud." 

"I only speak the truth, dear," she patted his arm and picked up her dress to go over the suspensed bridge that led to the castle's main garden. 

Peter gave her support with his arm, biting his lip at the thought of what he wanted to say but was not so sure to express. For to tell someone else and out loud at that, would only show that Peter had some hope that what was being said would come true. And the least he wanted was to get excited as if he were a child. 

May looked at him out of the corner of her eye and raised an eyebrow. "With so much thinking you will break your head," the woman said, making Peter laugh. "Are you okay?" 

Peter waited a moment, opening his mouth to speak, but then closing it again, pursing his lips and saying nothing. May breathed a laugh, bowing her head to greet the soldiers of the Royal Guard who were escorting the gate of the palace, and continued along the stone path of the garden that was in front of the main entrance. 

"I was thinking," his aunt commented, watching the flowers and slowing her pace to appreciate the view of the garden. Peter looked at her patiently and May smiled. "Have you not thought about asking Wade if Lupine needs boys to comb their horses?" 

Peter snorted and shook his head. "I think they have plenty, Aunt May." 

May nodded and shrugged. "Fine, no barn boys, but what about knights? Don't you think they need one somewhere there?" 

Peter looked at her confused, stopping just in front of the castle to look at her. "I'm not a knight." 

"Nobody is born being an expert in everything, Peter," May said raising an eyebrow and continuing her walk, turning the corner of the castle that led to the entrance for the servants. "And I think you showed that you have what it takes in the hand-to-hand combat." 

"It's not the same, I-" Peter followed his aunt but immediately paused as he frowned, taking a moment before opening his eyes in surprise and smiling at his aunt. "Actually, that's not such a bad idea."

"When have I ever had bad ideas?" May asked offended, taking a basket and handing another one to Peter, grabbing the brunet by the shoulders before they entered the castle. "I know about the plans that the heir of Lupine has, and I think you deserve that and more, Peter." Peter opened his mouth to object, but his aunt stopped him. "But I also know how dangerous it is. So why don't you offer to be an apprentice to a squire or something, nobody could condemn you for that." 

"He doesn't want to marry Vanessa, Aunt May," Peter sighed. "That alone will raise millions of suspicions." 

"Then show them what a good knight you can be and they will have no other choice but to remain silent." 

The woman raised her nose in the air and walked towards the door that led to the kitchen. Peter laughed and shook his head, running to follow her. "And what about you? Because I don't plan to leave you behind." 

"I am a very good cook," May smiled and opened the door to give way to the bunch of servants running around with vases, plates, and brooms. "They might need something like that in Lupine." 

Peter snorted and walked over to where Miles and Gwen were fighting with the wine barrels. 

~ ° ~ 

"There were about twenty fleets with black flags," Burt said, laying the rum on the table and looking at both Logan, the King's Hand, and Lord Stark. "The men sailing them seemed taken out of the worst dungeons." 

The King's Hand, Jameson, frowned and settled back in his high-backed chair. "They invaded Felles?" 

"They destroyed half of my town," Burt growled, squeezing his drink hard. "We did not ask for reinforcements from other houses because we managed to get them out, mainly because we were not their target, and that's why I decided to come as quickly as possible." 

"Why didn't they stop you when they saw you at sea?" Tony asked, standing by the window. 

Lord Burt snorted as if the question was unnecessary. "Our power is over the sea, Lord Stark. They knew it and didn't dare to try even if they wanted to." 

"For how long have you known?" Logan asked, looking at Jameson and his son with severity. "I do not think it's the first time you hear about this." 

Jameson glared at him, but his son was quicker to admit the truth. "A few months ago, when the tournament was announced," Jameson tried to stop him, but the king ignored him. "We heard some rumors about plundered villages, castles of small Houses being destroyed, women raped and children killed." 

"Damn it, John, stay quiet!" Jameson ordered, breathing hard and looking at the rest. "Nobody corroborated the truth." 

"And you didn't try to send someone to inspect?" Logan snarled, trying to stay calm in the King's presence. 

"We sent some men," Jameson admitted, clearing his throat. 

"And?" Tony asked. 

John turned his gaze to his father, and when the other didn't answer, he decided to do it. "They have not returned yet." 

Tony snorted, Logan glared at Jameson and Burt emptied more rum into his glass, taking a deep breath so he would not throw his drink at his Highness. "The looting in Felles took about a month and a half," Burt said, taking a drink. "The round trip from the capital takes about three weeks, James." 

"There were other obstacles," Jameson said, looking at them cautiously. "The weather was very bad during the days before the tournament, and nobody told us about the situation in Felles, so the main destination was Virantis." 

"Virantis is already destroyed," Burt said. 

"Why did you never send a raven?" Logan asked, this time turning his gaze to Burt. "That information was vital." 

Burt said nothing, glaring at him and finishing his drink. Tony, on the other hand, snorted and shook his head. "He's ashamed to ask for help." 

Burt stood up and looked at Tony with a frown. "My house may be small, but we know how to defend ourselves without anyone's help." 

"For fucks sake, Burt," Logan cursed, leaning back in his chair. "Do you know how many lives would have been saved and how much we could have spared if you had sent a damn raven?" 

"These useless men already knew!" Burt snarled, pointing to the King and his Hand with his liquor, to which Jameson stood up and placed both palms tightly on the table. 

"I remind you that you are talking about the King when you refer to _'these useless men,'_ and unless you want to lose your twat of a head, Burt, you better keep your damn mouth shut!" They all fell silent and lowered their eyes, to which Jameson nodded, sitting down again and adjusting his doublet. "Now, I accept that we had to act better and in a more concise way, but it was all childish rumors caused by a young pirate that nobody took seriously." 

"Until he started destroying whole villages," Tony muttered, earning a glare from Jameson, so he decided to seal his lips. 

"We learned about that just a week ago. My men have managed to sink some of their boats, but others have disappeared without a trace," Jameson told them. "We were planning to tell the Lords tomorrow before they all return to their homes, with the idea that they notify their castles, but if we do..." 

"No one will leave their best men in the capital available to the King," Logan commented, watching Jameson for an answer, though the Hand decided not to accept his clever treachery. 

"With all due respect, James, but you're a wretch," Tony said, and in response, Jameson poured himself a glass of rum. 

"Send crows to your castles," the young King said at last, attracting the attention of those present. "We need your support now that we know their destination is Klariono." 

"And why would we leave our villages unprotected?" Burt asked, frowning and staring at his rum so it would not show that his glare was addressed to the king. "My castle has suffered enough." 

"Because we're all here," Logan said, sighing and standing up to leave. "The main target is the capital city not only because they want the kingdom, but also because they know that all the important men and women are here." 

~ ° ~ 

Royal dances were a stressful activity. The costumes of high importance bothered him because there were too many layers of clothes on his body, and he especially detested having to pretend smiles and elegance during a whole night. 

Wade adjusted his tunic in front of the castle. It was wine-colored velvet, tied at the waist with a brown belt. Over the tunic lay a black cloak with wolf fur over the shoulders, and a chain that connected both ends of the cloak went down his collarbone. 

He had waited for Logan all day and the Lord never showed up, so Wade had to get ready and show up for the banquet as his representative, for Charles had decided to stay and wait for him. "He'll probably return with a headache and it's my duty to treat him," the maester had said. 

The castle was illuminated in every corner with chandeliers that had been previously cleaned and lit with care. Red and gold looms came down from the roof to the middle of the walls of the castle, with the banners of the Jameson House, while in the garden many men and women crossed its green corridors to the pit. 

The great main doors were open so that everyone whose entrance had been allowed by the bridge and the gates of the rake, had free passage through all the internal corners of the kingdom. Wade was greeted with a few smiles and others not so grateful in the inner patio. The heir decided to ignore them all and head towards the main tower, where the different musicians filled the great hall with various melodies. 

The King and his Hand had given their appearance just then, nodding and sitting in the highest place at the corner opposite to the musicians. Wade took advantage of that distraction in the guests, to approach Peter, who was watching his almost empty jar. Wade took him by the waist, pulling him into one of the corridors and kissing him with all the passion with which he had been so wishing to do. 

Peter gasped first, surprised by the sudden attack, pushing Wade's shoulders until the heir was far away enough to let the brunet see his face. "You scared me," Peter said, laughing and panting. 

Wade smiled and leaned down to kiss Peter's neck, who continued to laugh. "I've been away from you for a long time." His teeth grazed upon Peter's skin and his hands were buried under the long shirt. 

"You'd better not leave marks on my neck because I do not want any Lord or Lady to think they can buy me for the night." 

"As if I was going to let them put their hands on you," Wade said offended, making Peter snort and shake his head. "Even though I know you'll just send them off yourself." 

Peter pulled Wade up and kissed him this time, devouring the hoarse moan that escaped Wade's throat, who cursed his gloves for not allowing him to feel every inch of skin he could graze. Peter pulled the collar of the heir's cloak until the chain that held it almost touched Wade's neck, then he attacked his tunic to reveal his collarbone. 

"Fuck," Wade muttered, when Peter continued his kisses below Wade's jaw, laughing breathlessly over the curve of his neck and shoulder. 

"You're wearing too many layers," Peter whined, laughing when Wade's hands began to move down his hips and his crotch was caught by one of Wade's knees. 

"You too, damn it!" Wade moved his knee and pulled a moan from Peter's encaptured mouth, who bit his lip and began to push him by the shoulders. 

"Not here, Sir Wade." Peter gasped, watching as Wade began to let go of the laces of his shirt to reveal Peter's shoulder. "Wade!" Peter protested, in a whisper so as not to attract attention. 

"Hmm?" The heir asked, kissing and sucking on his shoulder. "You said not on the neck. This is not your neck." 

Peter snorted and placed his palm on Wade's forehead, pushing him until the heir's parted lips were empty. "I must go back to the kitchen," Peter murmured, raising his jug to show the little wine that remained. "I must fill the jar. Trust me, we don't want to see Ferrum's men angry with the lack of alcohol." 

Wade rolled his eyes and pouted, sticking out his lower lip which Peter kissed as he smiled, adjusting the laces of his shirt back in place. Wade sighed and leaned against the wall next to the servant. "I'll have to wait a moment for my manhood down there." 

Peter shook his head with a snort and adjusted his hair, leaning on his side next to Wade. "We could see each other in my room tonight and so-" 

"You'll come with me, right?" Wade asked, turning his head to look at Peter, who pursed his lips in thought. 

"I don't know, I was thinking-" 

"Every year Lady Scarlett sends us gifts from the ports, ceramics with decorations of birds and flowers from the west, silks from the Islands, citruses as big as your head, silver cuffs and rings from their mines. Winghead gives us wool as thick as a brick. Imagine a sheep as fluffy as a cloud on your shoulders, and the ironwood given to us by the Stark make the finest furniture and swords in the land.” Wade stroked Peter’s backside and continued. “Come with me and you will want nothing.” 

Peter simply looked at him confused, blinking at the lack of words as his eyes tried to penetrate Wade's own. "What happened with Lord Burt?" 

Wade took a deep breath and sighed, shrugging and turning back to the front. "I don't know, he's ignoring the matter with Vanessa, and this afternoon he and Logan went to talk to the king, but Logan had not come back before I came here, so I don't know." 

Peter continued to stare at him as if wanting to say something but not knowing how. "I was thinking that maybe I could offer to be part of Lupine's guard. I would need more training but eventually, I would succeed." Wade turned his head to look at him and Peter decided to continue before the heir could stop him. "I know I could do it, and I would be close to you almost every day. We could be good friends while you live your life with your wife. May could even work in the kitchen and-" 

"You want that?" Wade asked, a serious and cold tone, something that made Peter shudder, though he tried to hide it. 

"I..." Peter looked at his hands, which were moving to almost turn into a knot. "I think it would be a good way to stay together." 

"As _'friends,'_ " Wade said, growling and turning to Peter, cornering him even though the servant continued with his downward stare. "Do you think I could consider you just a friend?" 

"I'm a great friend," Peter whispered. 

"I bet you are!" Wade grunted, lifting Peter's face and ignoring the whining of the other. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you could live your whole life happy seeing me with another person by my side." 

Peter tried to look to the side, biting the inside of his lip to hide his discomfort due to those words. "I- Wade, I believe that." 

"Peter," Wade sounded angry, Peter knew he was, but he wasn't ready for this. "Look me in the eye and tell me if that really is what you wish for." 

"I-" 

"Look at me!" 

Peter raised his gaze and was taken aback by Wade's pained expression, with clenched jaw and glazed eyes that searched for something within Peter's, whatever it was. The brunet felt his vision become cloudy, although he tried to keep tears away. The last thing he wanted was to break at that moment. "No, I don't want that," Peter whispered, "but I wish what's best for you." 

The music in the room grew, and Wade sighed as he relaxed a little, reaching out to hug Peter, who buried his face in Wade's chest and wrapped his arms around his waist. "I'm sorry," Wade whispered. "But I've already told you several times that I'm not going to change my mind, and if what you want is what's best for me, then you'll stay by my side, being happy too, unless you really don't want to be by my side, then-" 

Peter covered Wade's mouth with his hand and shook his head. "Don't. Of course I want to be with you." 

"Then don't say things that can hurt me and you," Wade said, carefully removing Peter's hand and kissing his palm. "If you want to learn how to be a man of the guard, I will gladly tell our best master of swords to teach you, with the condition that you skip dangerous battles." 

Peter laughed breathily and Wade smiled. "May can work in the kitchen if she wants to, and even if she doesn't want to that's alright, because I think it's time for others to cook for her and not the opposite." 

Peter smiled and nodded. "Yes, I believe the same." 

"Then stop doubting," Wade whispered, surrounding Peter with his arm as Peter kept looking at the heir's tunic, a safe space between the laces. 

"What about Lord Burt? You can't ignore him all your life, Wade." 

The brunet's chin was trapped between gloved fingers, as Wade lifted Peter's face and kissed him gently, fingers caressing Peter's jaw and cheek as the music in the other room started slowing. When Wade stopped, Peter tried to follow his lips, to which the heir smiled. 

"Lord Burt is a barely a shadow in my mind. You are my light, Peter." 

Wade gave the servant a light kiss on the lips, who responded by blushing and taking Wade's tunic tightly in his hands as reassurance before letting go. Wade adjusted his clothes and Peter did the same, both of them in complete silence before returning to the dance. 

Logan had already arrived. He was sitting at one of the long tables, drinking and eating from the mountains of meat and fruit. Wade sat next to him, clearing his throat while Logan watched him with a raised eyebrow. "Why are you smiling? I thought you hated dances." 

"With my life," Wade nodded, laughing when Logan frowned. "People can change, the circumstances too." 

Logan rolled his eyes and decided to continue eating, trying to hide his smile. Wade was going to ask about what happened at the meeting, but his words were stopped when a musician from above glanced over at the entrance and stopped playing midway. His neighbor was about to scold him when he followed the other's gaze to the door. One by one, all the musicians were silenced in shock. Until one noble lady turned to the door and gasped louder than any song. 

The person named during all this time, in legends, songs, poems, and rumors, was standing at the entrance of the great hall, with his hands on his hips and his suit shining in the light of the fire, probably just stolen. His hair was brown, becoming lighter by the time spent at sea, his white skin painted with moles of different sizes, and his eyes were dark and distant. He moved with the subtle certainty of those who know many things. 

"Good evening!" Zemo greeted, clearing his throat and approaching the center of the ballroom, observing everyone around him while three of his men followed, in not-so-elegant suits but those typical of pirates. 

Jameson looked at his Royal Guard, who raised their swords and began to approach, but traitors of houses that had been invited, including the Kree house, took them before they could reach Helmut, placing his swords on the neck of the soldiers of the Royal Guard. Ronan, who was on the king's balcony, placed his sword on the king's mother's neck, making all present people gasp, including her son John, who tried to stand, but his father stopped him. 

"Do not worry," Zemo said, raising his hand so no one would attack, and took one of the wine glasses that was on a nearby table. "I don't come to burn the castle, _for now_. As a guest that would be very impolite, apart from the fact that it would leave me in a very bad position in front of the eyes of the gods and all that." The rebel took a sip from his drink and pointed to the young king. "The party is beautiful, you outdid yourself in everything.

"But while all of you rejoice and drink until your feet no longer feel the earth under them, and eat until your stomachs expand and breathing turns hard, many people die of hunger and thirst out there." Zemo chuckled and looked at his glass, swirling the liquid in it. "But do not worry. We'll leave. We don't like ruining a lovely party with our presence." 

Once the wine was swallowed, Zemo dropped the glass on the floor and stood calmly. "I'll see you burn to ashes," he said, turning around while everyone looked at him with surprise. "And I'll come back for what's mine." 

The rebellious young man went out the doors, being followed by his men. Ronan did not let go of the former Queen and smiled at the Hand, walking towards the door with all the other traitors who had taken the royal guard as hostages, still with the sword against the woman's neck. John raised his hand so no one would attack, and they all stayed in place. 

Ronan released the woman at the doors of the room, smiling darkly as he left. Everyone remained silent, and Wade started looking for Peter with his eyes among the people until a scream returned his attention to the main entrance. 

Crossing the right thigh of the former Queen, was a black arrow with the tip stained with blood and something brighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves, (little) war (and sex) is coming lol


	10. Chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter I've written for this story *phew* At first I wanted to split it in two, but in the end I decided to post it as I had written it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ lol
> 
> Hope you like it :)!

It was a beautiful night, Peter remembers being just a boy of about thirteen. The moon was full and illuminated the road, a rocky and uneven terrain which the flickering light of the fire seemed to move under his feet. The silence grew denser with each step, and Peter enjoyed it with immense happiness when he jumped from rock to rock and moved the wooden sword that his uncle had given him, the same man who continued to throw wood into the fire. 

Peter remembers almost falling, but he held his legs steady and held his body in the air before standing firm again. His uncle chuckled and Peter glared at him. "I'm getting better." 

His uncle nodded. "I already know that. There's no need for you to tell me." 

"But you're making fun of me," Peter said, crossing his arms. 

Ben shook his head and sat down by the fire, gathering the fish they had caught that afternoon to his side. "I'm not making fun of you, I just enjoy your progress, which is different." 

Peter frowned and smiled. "That's like saying you're making fun of me, but in pretty words." 

His uncle snorted loudly and shook his head again. "You're just too smart." With a hunting knife, Ben opened the belly of the fish to clean it, and Peter remembers looking away. "But to become someone important you also have to be humble, and if you make mistakes, admitting it is part of the process." 

"Knights don't make mistakes," Peter said, adopting a defensive position and with his sword pointing at nothing. 

Ben laughed and shrugged. "We all make mistakes, Peter." 

The brunet shrugged and walked back to the bonfire, watching the fire rise up in the shadows. "Do you think I'll make it, Uncle Ben?" 

Ben nodded, not even stopping to think about it, and stopped the movement of his hand that undressed the fish from its scales. "I do not think you'll make it, I'm sure you will." 

Peter smiled and his uncle returned the gesture, turning his gaze back to the fish. "How about you go find me a long branch to heat the fish?" 

Peter nodded, placing the wooden sword in the belt of his pants, it was a jute rope, but Peter imagined it was black leather like the ones the Royal Guard used. Before he could go into the forest, Ben's words stopped him. "Remember, boy," he had said, without taking his eyes off the fire. "With great power comes great responsibility." 

This was a beautiful night, one that Peter would never forget, and he would like to say that it was because the moon was full, or because the wind moved the leaves of the trees and the fish was tasty, but that night Peter could not even taste the fish, and when he returned to the bonfire the flames of the fire was fading and his uncle no longer smiled. 

~ ° ~ 

John was the first to jump off the balcony he was in, to take his wounded mother in his arms and promise between whispers that everything would be fine. The old queen nodded, looking at her leg while the many maesters in the room approached to treat her wound. 

"Nothing serious," whispered Charles, looking from his place next to Logan. "It only touched skin, the concerning thing is the bright liquid that is coming out of the tip." 

"Do you think it's poison?" Wade asked, also in whispers, though his gaze stayed on Peter, who was watching the scene with wide eyes as Miles spoke to him. 

"It is not the arrow that struck that kills men," Logan reminded, "but the infection festering from within." 

"You don't think she has possibilities?" 

Logan shrugged. "I think that young pirate was smart." 

"Why?" 

"Because he knew how to attack the mental stability of the King and his Hand in the depths of their souls," Logan pointed towards the main balcony, where Jameson still watched seriously, although fear was evident in his eyes. 

"I think we should send crows," Wade said with a nod, turning back to Logan. "We'll need men." 

"I already did, and they're on their way. I think we should try to talk to Jameson and the King to calm things down and not make stupid decisions," Logan said, clearing his throat and pointing at Peter with his chin. "At the moment the best thing we could do is try to keep safe those _we care for_." 

Wade followed his gaze and frowned. "Peter is just a servant." 

"Mental stability, Wade," Logan reminded him and Charles nodded. 

"Rumors run around quickly and you are a future Lord, Sir Wade. Young Helmut could try many things to destroy great names." 

Wade bit his lip and looked toward the entrance, where the queen was being lifted up and taken to her rooms to be treated in the best way. Wade this time swallowed hard and went to Peter without thinking. The servant now focused his attention on Wade, still with his eyes wide open. The other servant, Miles, was with him and he was the first to speak. 

"What is going to happen now?" The boy asked, voice anxious, almost vibrant with excitement and concern. "Do you think the queen'll die? Will there be war? Do we have to attack?" 

"You and you," Wade pointed at him and then at Peter, "will do nothing." 

"What?" They both asked in unison, approaching Wade. 

"If there is a battle, of course we have to fight," Peter said, looking around the Lords and Ladies, all moving towards the chamber of commerce. "For the Gords, it's a battle, isn't it?" 

Peter also seemed to vibrate, but his emotion were not the same as that felt by the other boy at his side. The heir shuddered and turned to Miles, trying to sound calm. "How about you take May to my tent, kid. Take Gwen with you and stay there until Peter comes back and explains everything, yes?" 

Peter narrowed his eyes at Wade, who waited until the other boy was away to pull Peter into the castle kitchen, but the brunet stopped in the hallway and crossed his arms. "You don't want me to fight." 

"Of course not!" 

"But I can do it!" 

"No, you cannot," Wade insisted, pushing two fingers against Peter's still-wounded ribs, and he wrinkled his face. "See, you haven't even finished recovering." 

Peter huffed, annoyed, and glared at Wade. "I'm not going to stay in your tent like a damsel in distress just because of a few bruises, Wade." 

"This battle probably won't last one night, Pete," Wade reminded, whispering to avoid snitching ears. "Maybe tomorrow you're ready, but not today, alright? Tonight everyone has a lot of energy and strength, those pirates are not tired, you are. Please, I beg of you, stay in the tent for today and don't move from there." 

They both looked at each other, tension in their eyes as none wanted to break their pride. A few desperate cries were heard in the Queen's room, and Wade pointed to the space where the noise came from as if it were proof of his words. Peter sighed and nodded at last, to which Wade hugged him tightly. "You'll take care of May and your friends. It's more important than being out there, trust me." 

"You only say that because you want me locked up, in a tower if necessary," Peter mumbled against Wade's shoulder, who nodded without regret. 

While they were at this, a loud _crack_ was heard outside the palace, and Wade shuddered as Peter tried to look over the shoulder of the heir. "Damn it, he said he was not going to attack today," Wade growled. 

"He said he would not attack the castle yet, but he didn't say anything about the city." 

Wade rolled his eyes and began to push Peter towards the employees' exit. "Run to the tent, yes? I'll go in a moment. First, I want to know what's going on in that meeting." 

Peter nodded and pulled Wade into a kiss, with the delicacy of someone who believes they have all the time in the world. Or someone who is sure that they will lose their beloved. Wade preferred to think it was the first, as he pressed Peter closer to his chest and buried his nose in the servant's neck. "Be careful, alright?" 

"You too, please." 

Wade nodded and Peter sighed, walking out the employees' door and gasping as his face glowed with flickering light. Wade frowned and went out to see what was it. There was fire, the city was burning. Wade grunted and ran to the council chamber to tell the others, but that wasn't necessary; after a long climb up the stairs of the tower and knocks against several guards, when Wade opened the door that led to the tower, he could see all the Lords and Ladies observing the landscape with their own eyes. 

All turned their eyes to the king, who seemed to tremble as someone who has the same experience as a mouse on real battles. John noticed the looks aimed at him and turned slowly to his father, who poured a glass of wine and finished it in a single swig. "What are you waiting for?" Jameson asked. 

John opened his eyes wide and waited longer for a real answer. Jameson growled and pointed towards the window. "There's a damn war out there. I'm the one you should least observe. For the Gods, go defend your fucking kingdom!" 

~ ° ~ 

Peter ran to the Howlett tent, but stopped halfway and turned around, running toward the stables. On the way all the servants ran everywhere, crashing into Peter without even noticing. The brunet panted as he opened the wooden doors, the smell of smoke reaching up there, his house had probably already been sacked and Peter felt angry at the thought of his ruined flower. 

Ben whinnied in fright, and Peter tried to calm him along the other horses, with soft, consoling words. He needed to give them clean water, it was obvious that the horses would be used to a fight and Peter couldn't feel more than fear for his equine friends. Up there they were still safe, down there would be another story. 

While dragging the bucket with water, Flash came running into the barn, coughing as he grabbed one of the mounts and searched among the horses. Peter felt his chest squeeze and tried to cover Ben with his body. Eugene looked at the servant and glared at him. 

"I need a damn horse, Parker. The Royal Guard has already left." 

Peter bit his lip and looked to the side, pointing to a brown-haired horse. "That one's fast, his name is-" 

"Do not tell me!" Eugene interrupted, placing the saddle on the steed. Peter continued his work, not daring to look up to avoid the pain. Flash seemed to notice and sighed. "Look, I don't want you to tell me their names because it's of no help for me to get attached at this moment, alright?" 

Peter turned around hurt, and Eugene shrugged with nothing else to say, getting on the back of the horse and leading it to the door. "I advise you to take that one if you want it alive by the end of the night." 

Flash pointed at Ben with his head and left without another word. Peter stood there for a moment watching the doors until Ben neighed behind him and brought him back to reality. The brunet caressed the steed's white hair, looking into his eyes, bright and scared. 

"Everything's alright," Peter promised, turning to finish his initial task, making sure all the horses were getting enough water as his heart was getting tighter. 

"I can't take you all with me," he whispered, his words very weak while outside only screams were heard. "You are all very strong, I know you will succeed." 

Another explosion made him jump, moving back to Ben and caressing his head. "You instead," he said, jumping up onto his back and gripping the horse's hair with force. "I know you're weaker." 

With a tap on the rump, Ben stood on his hind legs, whinnying and galloping out of the stable, rolling everything in front of him and running fast, scared as Peter tried to calm him with tears in his eyes. "It's alright, Ben, you'll be fine." 

Some of the king's men ran to the stables and Peter decided not to look, galloping faster on Ben's back to Wade's tent. 

~ ° ~ 

The king had hired about seven hundred mercenaries, fickle men to whom Jameson had done everything possible to buy their loyalty. In times of war, any man was worth gold. He had promised a dozen of the best men lands and knight ranks when they won the battle. Among jokes they even called themselves "Sir" or "Lord." 

"They will kill for an important title," Maverick told Wade, while both were dressed in mail and armor. "But don't even dream that they'll die for you." 

Wade shrugged. "I don't expect them to. Many poor men joined us for bread and beer, but the moment the battle gets ugly they will turn their backs on us. The first to release the spear and run, will have a thousand followers." 

Maverick wrinkled his nose and nodded. "Battle uncovers realities, kid. I'm glad to know you know your surroundings." 

"There are many things in my past that nobody knows about me," Wade said, his expression forming a grim smile, and he took his sword in hand to walk towards the entrance. "All ready?" 

The men seemed ready, although within four walls anyone seemed ready. Outside the courtyard were many men running side by side, squires carrying shields and swords, and horses trotting without an owner. Wade took the reins that hung from Blind Al and climbed onto the back of the mare, which simply shook its head and began to trot. Other men followed him, some taking horses that were in the way, or simply walking to his side. Outside the castle, people hid in their houses or ran with carts full of some of their possessions to leave the city while battle remained a few feet away. 

Near the edge of the kingdom, Logan and his escort were waiting for them, amidst a swarm of beggars, prostitutes who wandered aimlessly, and fishermen picking up what was left of their merchandise, while some guards pushed them out of their stands. They needed to destroy everything that made it easy to climb the wall to the castle. The south shore was covered with men and horses, which fluttered like mad ants as they spotted the approaching ships. 

Floating on the dock were about seventy fleets, Wade knew they were not the only ones and that was what he feared most. Rumors of sightings sprang up from the woods, about twenty thousand traitors approached stealthily. Reinforcements were coming already, some of the nearest houses had arrived that morning, like the Carlysle house, the giants of Harkanon, or the brave men of Winghead, but while those ships were still in the sea, Wade knew that the traitors would have them surrounded. 

"Any plans for those ships?" 

Logan looked at him, as if not realizing until now of his son's presence. "Lord Stark's at it." 

Wade nodded, turning his gaze to the screams in the city. "How long will it take?" 

"We don't know." 

"You should know." 

"Wade," Logan whispered exhausted. "Our job is to try to keep them as far as possible to give Lord Stark time, hence we have no right to demand anything." 

From there came the sound of tinny bronze trumpets, which soon disappeared, drowned out by the roar of thousands of screaming throats. A man beside Wade squeezed the cross on his neck with his hand and muttered a silent prayer for luck. 

Wade snorted silently, and his comment was drowned out by the sound of metal. 

~ ° ~ 

When Peter made it to the royal camp, he got off Ben and left him by the Howlett's tent, caressing his head to let Ben calm back to normal. He was about to enter but heard frustrated grunts coming from one side of House Stark's tent. 

Peter approached stealthily, opening his eyes wide as his surroundings lit up and then the flame descended again. "For all the fucking Gods, not even a rudder will burn with that," Lord Stark growled, throwing an arrow on the earth, wet with oil and a slight flare around it. 

The maester next to him sighed and shook his head, taking another arrow and placing it on the iron table that Tony kept outside his tent. "You could try again with less oil this time, Lord Stark." 

"We do not have all night, Jarvis," Tony growled, placing both hands on the table and watching the arrow with narrowed eyes. 

"You could put wax on it," Peter heard himself say, realizing very late that he had spoken out loud. 

Both men turned to look at him, and Peter bit his lip, clearing his throat and bowing with education. "Forgive my imprudence, I-" 

"What did you say?" Tony asked, approaching Peter. 

"Um..." Tony motioned him to come over to the table and placed a candle on the iron. 

"Well?" 

Peter cleared his throat and nodded, approaching the table and taking the wooden arrow and the candle in his hands, and began to slide the wax on the wood. "I think that covering the arrows with wax could help the wood not burn so quickly, and if you put wet cloths on the tip with canfin and light it with fire, the arrow will reach the boats and burn them more easily, keeping in mind that boats are often covered in bitumen that makes them more accessible to combustion." 

Peter then tore off a piece of his cotton shirt and wrapped it around the head of the arrow, then looked around. Lord Stark's maester had already placed canfin in a clay jug. Peter thanked him and dipped the cloth in the liquid, giving it to Tony, who looked at him with surprise. 

The Lord guided the tip of the arrow to the fire, taking it from the other end and smiling when the cloth was lit with force and remained so for a long time, without burning immediately the wood of the stick. "I owe you one, boy," Tony said, throwing the arrow into the fire, which ignited brighter. 

Lord Stark entered his tent and Peter stayed with the maester whose name was Jarvis apparently, who simply smiled at him. "I'm surprised that a young man like you is not fighting out there," said the maester, without a trace of reproach and more out of curiosity. 

"Do not be ridiculous, Jarv, that's the flower boy," Tony said, leaving his tent with a large wooden chest in his arms, which he placed on the floor and opened to show his elegant suits. Jarvis raised an eyebrow and approached his Lord to help him without knowing exactly in what. 

"Lord Stark, may I know what you will do with all these clothes?" 

Tony pointed to his tent with a finger and looked at Peter, who didn't expect to keep being part of all that. "Go to my tent and take out all the chests that you find. Let's make my clothes burn." 

"May I beg your pardon?" Jarvis asked, although he didn't seem surprised at all. 

Tony took a thin linen shirt and began to pull it with a knife and his hands. "We will burn those boats at all costs, Jarv, and he-" 

Tony pointed at Peter, who cleared his throat as he pulled a trunk into the garden. "Peter, my lord." 

"Peter had a great idea," Tony concluded, calling one of his men to bring him as many arrows as they were not yet using. "Bring your clothes too, Peter!" 

"I um," Peter wrinkled his face and opened one of the trunks. "I only have three sets, sir." 

Lord Anthony looked at him for a moment, as if those words were not normal for his ears, then he went to his toolbox and handed Peter a knife inlaid with diamonds and wrought iron on the handle. The Lord didn't say anything else, but Peter understood that it was an important task that he had in hands and that the men around him respected him. His presence meant something. 

~ ° ~ 

Wade watched as some archers stood on the edge of the city wall, while others, down in the sand and carrying black banners, got off the boats and hid among the big rocks of the sea. 

The heir didn't see how the battle began, instead it was the sound that warned him, a huge roar of two galleys that collided and their wood breaking into a thousand pieces. Wade couldn't tell whose ships they were, but he could surmise that one of Lord Burt's ships had struck the first blow. He liked to think that it had been like that. 

The echo of another impact shook the water a moment later, and then another. Among these sounds, Wade could distinguish the catapult of an enemy ship, which vanished one of the lower galleries of the castle. There were a few more thunders, but not all for sheer bravery, for the Copycat and another of the pirate ships, fought overboard with those who tried to jump on deck. 

Wade looked up at the archers in confusion, and then lowered his attention back to Logan. "Why aren't they firing?" 

"I don't know," replied the Lord, preparing to fight. 

"Shoot!" A pirate order from one of the boats, and their archers threw a withering rain of arrows over the water, three or four of which wounded Burt's men at sea. 

Again one, two, three and four catapults rose, some towards the capital city and others towards the other ships, and a roar released huge rocks the size of a man's head that rose very high in the darkness of the night, raising dust and water in its wake, the first breaking stone and houses of wood and straw, and the second crossing the oak boards, breaking and vanishing men in the depths of the sea. 

"Shit," Wade cursed, watching some men get closer and closer to the city. "We're losing! Can someone tell those damn archers up there that they need to shoot!" 

Logan watched with a frown, not saying anything, and causing Wade to look at him impatiently. When the Lord of Lupine opened his mouth to order the spears, a hiss flew over their heads with small bags of white cloth hanging from their tips, and then, a flash of yellow and red caught their attention in front. To port. And a nest of ocher phoenix birds grew and twisted, ascending with a hiss from the prow of an enemy ship. 

"Fire! Fire!" 

Wade saw men try to extinguish the flame, but what was inside the white bag had spread on the deck, and prevented it from stopping, making the fire grow with its passage in small explosions. Wade realized then that it was gunpowder, destroying every wooden space in its path. 

More bags flew through the air, some could be stopped by enemy archers, but others managed to reach their destination, and then, without much delay, they were followed by flaming arrows, igniting the gunpowder and every wooden space they found. The sea seemed to be burning, and half of Zemo's fleets were torches with men throwing themselves overboard and shouting to announce the fire that had already eaten most of their ships. 

"Wow!" Wade heard someone say by his side, and when the heir turned around, his face disfigured in panic. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He asked, taking Peter by the arm and looking for injuries. The boy kept his gaze on the sea for a moment and then turned his attention to Wade. 

"Did you see what we did?" 

"What?" Wade asked, watching Tony approach with a smile on his face as the fire lit up his features and those of everyone present. "What?" 

Peter blinked several times, and then as if reality returned to his body, he shook his head and became very serious. "It was not my intention that men died. I just wanted to tear down the boats and thus stop their catapults." He then nodded and smiled again. "Which I accomplished, Wade! Did you see that?" 

The heir raised his eyebrows and turn his gaze to where Peter was constantly looking at, where the fire burned and the boats sank, then Wade turned his attention back to Peter and discovered that the boy had gunpowder on his face and held a knife in his hand. "You did that?" 

Peter looked directly at him and nodded, he seemed proud, _he was proud_ , although the screams made him turn from time to time, as if to make sure that not everyone was dying. Wade couldn't help but smile, taking the brunet's face and brazenly kissed him. 

Peter opened his eyes in surprise and Wade smirked, sighing and shaking his head "There's no way to keep you out of danger." 

Peter opened his mouth to object when dry branches beside their group broke under the footsteps of several pirates who were running towards his men. Then Wade realized that Peter was not wearing armor and his panic re-emerged. 

Before the bruner could try anything, Wade began to push him away, drawing his sword just in case, while behind him the fight had already begun. "You promised," Wade said, squeezing the hand Peter was holding the knife handle with. "Go back to the tent and protect those who are there, I'll see you soon." 

And so, Wade went back with sword in hand to stop those who approached. Peter felt his body tremble at the desire to join them, but a promise was a promise, and Wade was right, he had to protect his people up there. So he started to run and his feet did not stop moving until he reached his destination, finding very frightened faces. 

~ ° ~

The doors of the kingdom cracked under the force of the battering ram that some pirates had managed to bring from their boats, while inside the kingdom the Royal Guard fought with those who were already inside the castle, including Zemo, although the young traitor had disappeared as soon as the fire was lit. 

Wade had fought with two men before running to Al and galloped to the gate, followed by a group of his men and leaving behind others to prevent them from opening the doors inside. His breathing was labored, sweat trickling down his forehead and under his armor, and his heart was beating as hard as it had since his father's death. 

The only difference was that at that time Wade was fourteen years old and didn't mind dying in the flames. Today instead, Wade was older, he wasn't wise or what could be called mature, but although his body burned in adrenaline, for the first time the heir didn't want to die. 

Beside him, Lord T'Challa and his men had joined them in a gallop, along with Sir Thomas and his parents. Lady Scarlett did not look like a fighter, but inside the armor, she seemed ready for anything. 

They advanced in a compact group, following the outline of the walls. The banner of House Jameson waved, red and gold, on Sir Eugene's staff near the King's Gate, observing silently and secretly as a crowd of soldiers maneuvered on the other side a huge battering ram with iron head and wooden body. 

"They always want to get in, maybe if they knocked politely as everyone else, the others would let them in," Wade said, his sarcasm going unnoticed by the other men, who continued on their way to wait by the doors. 

There was only one way to stop them, the iron of the battering ram was hammering the wood and iron of the great gate of the city, and if they achieved their goal, not even the high wall that surrounded the reign would be enough to prevent them from ascending to the barbican. 

Wade muttered and raised his hand to signal his men on the top of the high wall to continue the rain of arrows, for there were still enemy ships standing, with men getting down of their boats to fight and help with the battering ram. Many hit the target, but others only hit their armor. Then there were the huge rocks, thrown from the top to knock out everyone who positioned by the wall. 

"Are we going to stay here?" Wade asked the men who accompanied him. 

Lord T'Challa frowned and shook his head. "I don't know about you, but I do not plan on standing here watching as they destroy the homes of innocent people." 

Wade smiled, and those who accompanied them lowered their helms and followed them to the small side doors of the wall, which opened and gave way to what would be an exhausting battle. Enemy men were already raising ladders against the wall and climbing with the haste of a spider, fighting against the men who continued throwing stones and spears from the bailey. 

Wade didn't have much time to observe what was happening above the wall, as one of the enemy soldiers launched an attack on the heir, carrying a Kree shield, stained by spear attacks. Wade got off Al and kicked the man's shield, pushing him back as he raised his sword over the shield, slicing it against the man's neck, and turning immediately to prevent a cut to his nape when another traitor launched an attack against Wade. 

Al remained at his side and one of the pirates had tried to steal her, but the steed kicked with her hind legs against the pirate's head and managed to knock him out. 

"That's my girl!" Wade shouted, smiling and launching his sword against an enemy's half. As soon as he turned around, his helmet was stained red and his eyes widened in surprise. 

One of Harkanon's giants had thrown an ax at a man's head, splitting his body in two and giving him no time to scream. Wade wrinkled his face and the giant lifted his chest in a petulant smile. 

A spear hit his shield. T'Challa ran behind him, striking blows with both hands on every enemy he encountered. Over his head, Wade heard cries of support and celebration. From the top of the wall, men had managed to knock down two ladders with several men who fell and hit the ground with no air in their lungs. 

The battering ram had been forgotten for some time, probably buried somewhere in the sand for Wade couldn't hear or observe it. The heir hit an enemy archer hidden behind the rocks, opened a spearman from shoulder to armpit, and repelled the attack of someone wearing an aluminum helmet. Among all this, the cry of a horse gave him goosebumps, and Wade looked up to see how blood was coming from one of Al's legs. 

"Run!" Wade ordered the horse, running towards the culprit and stopping the next blow against Al. "Fuck you, bastard!" 

Al didn't want to move away, and Wade muttered under his teeth while the man gave him a tremendous battle. "Damn it, Al, get away!" 

Sir Thomas crossed in front of Wade like a ghost dressed in silks and golden-green armor. His sword cut members, split heads and shattered shields, although few enemies had managed to reach the shore with their shields intact. The young knight got off his steed and mounted Al's back, kicking her side and pulling the horse away to the doors they had come in. After a moment, he came back without Al and with a sledgehammer in hand, placing it in front of Wade, who looked at it confused and shook his head. 

"Thanks for Al, but I already have a sword." 

"I think my arm is broken," the young knight explained, grabbing his arm hard, "I'll try to fight a little more, but I do not think I can hold a hammer to knock down the ladders." 

Wade wrinkled his face then, watching the gravity of the wound on Sir Thomas' arm, whose bicep was bleeding through the fabric under his mail coat. The heir of Lupine nodded and grabbed the sledgehammer, running towards the wall as he raised it to the side, using its force to knock out a few men in his path, before throwing it hard against the side of one of the wooden ladders that rested against the wall, taking a man with it, who was beginning to climb. 

Before they could attack him, Wade moved toward the next, repeating the pattern until only one stair was left. He raised the hammer over his head, and the cry of pain from a pirate was drowned out by a buzzing in the heir's ears, when someone behind Wade rammed a spear against his barely healed shoulder, causing Wade to see stars and breathe in a gasp. 

Wade turned around with the speed that his cloudy vision allowed, to throw a blow against his attacker, who launched his weight at Wade, his shield crushing Wade against the wall and encrusting more iron against his shoulder, while the spear was broken just right next to Wade's head. 

"Son of a harlot," Wade growled, letting go of the hammer to take the man's arm that was over him and prevent the sword the man held against Wade's neck from reaching further. _'Shit,'_ Wade thought, watching stars as the weight of the shield was pushed deeper into his shoulder. 

"Shit," Wade said this time, choked by the pressure against his body. The soldier on him belonged to the Watchtower house, with red colors on his helmet and shield, and he snarled trying to push the sword more firmly into his neck. 

Wade knew that his wounded arm would no longer be useful because trying to move his shoulder made his grip weaker and caused the edge of the sword to make a cut on his neck. So the heir decided to put all his strength in the arm that remained untouched, trying to raise it to move the sword as far as possible from his Adam's apple. 

The soldier on top of him was strong, but on his arm there seemed to be blood. He was wounded. Wade took advantage of that and continued to push the sword towards his opponent, who was distracted enough so that Wade could push with his good shoulder the shield that imprisoned him against the wall, removing the Watchtower soldier and taking his hammer quickly to throw it against the other's head. 

The soldier fell to the ground and Wade leaned against the high wall behind him, "Shit, I would have given you a handshake for that great fight, but I don't think you're in a position to do so," he said, breathing hard and looking around.

They were winning. The boats in the sea were still burning, and everyone who approached the shore were attacked by a rain of arrows or the hands of giants. The last ladder fell at his side, and Wade looked up to see how a young squire greeted him from above as a thank-you.

"Go back to the camp, son," T'Challa said at his side, panting tiredly and pointing to the small iron door they had come from. "We've finished here, there are more men in there, but I'm sure your father managed to knock them down along with his men."

For Wade, it was still strange to hear people call Logan his father, especially because many did not, but he didn't argue, pointing with his chin to the bloody torso of the Lord of Wakanda. "We're both injured and you're going to keep fighting in there, why should I hold back?"

T'Challa chuckled and nodded, patting Wade's wounded shoulder and making him wince and curse all his offspring. "Because I can still hold a sword without fainting from the pain." The Lord of Wakanda said, moving away towards the doors.

Wade laughed tiredly and shook his head. "Fuck you."

~ ° ~ 

Children, pregnant women, old people and wounded men looked back at him, eyes that begged and frightened faces. Peter was silent for a moment, watching this without really understanding what to do. 

The Royal Guard had run to the battle, leaving the castle gates unguarded for a short period of time before they returned, time in which many civilians had taken advantage of to seek refuge within the royal camps. May and Charles, like the charitable people they were, had allowed all these people to take refuge in the Howlett's tent and its surroundings. 

Peter didn't have the heart to object, so he immediately began to help with the injured and the ingredients of the soup that Miles, Gwen, and May set to prepare for the hungry children and all those who accompanied them. At the moment they had three pots on the fire, two already empty and one about to join them. Everyone ate and those who didn't, slept to heal their wounds. 

Peter began to count all those present, to make sure that everyone had eaten enough, but a scream coming from the forest stopped him in his tracks. 

They all looked up, but once by the fire, no man wants to return to the cold. Peter looked at May, and his aunt stared back at him. She sighed and nodded, pointing to where the Howlett's swords had been placed. "Hurry up and come back in one piece." 

Peter nodded, giving her a kiss on the cheek and running towards the forest with sword in hand. The night had passed and the dim light of dawn began to lean over the horizon, giving Peter greater visibility. 

There were two men by the lake, judging by their clothing and the black breastplate that covered them Peter supposed they were pirates traveling with Zemo. Running away from them was a girl, hiding behind any tree that was in the way, and pressing a hand against her injured leg, where the dress seemed torn. 

The men laughed and the girl screamed for them to leave her alone, and Petet felt his blood boil. "Get away from her!" he shouted, approaching to threaten both men with his sword. 

The pirates laughed at him, snorting mockingly and shaking their heads. "Go home, boy, if you still have one." 

His partner snorted harder, and Peter glared at them. "I advise you leave or I could hurt you." 

One of the men smiled and rolled his eyes, winking at the girl and approaching Peter. "Look sweetheart," he said to the young woman, who shuddered behind the trunk of the tree. "Your hero came to save you. It's a shame that he's going to die so soon." 

He barely had time to raise his sword, when Peter stopped the blow with the sharp blade of his. "I think you're talking about your own future." 

With a kick to the leg, Peter threw his sword at the man's side and trapped the man's arm under his armpit, crushing the pirate's fingers with his hands and causing him to drop the sword. The man screamed and Peter snapped his fingers, pulling his leg back and kicking the man's crotch. The pirate ended up on the ground and wheezing for air, although his partner did not wait long to attack. 

Peter didn't have to tire so much with the second anyway, moving sideways until the guy got tangled up with his own partner and ended up falling, hitting his head with a stone and ending up unceremoniously on the grass. 

The brunet chuckled and shook his head, and a creak behind reminded him why he was there. The girl gasped as Peter turned around. He raised both hands in the air to show her that his intention was not to cause her any harm. "We have shelter, I heard your screams and that's why I came." 

The young woman had brown hair and honey eyes, her face was stained with dirt and tears. "Shelter?" she asked, her voice worn. 

"Yes," Peter answered quickly, nodding and looking back to make sure none of the pirates had stood up. "We should hurry." 

The girl nodded but didn't move, and Peter realized that she was waiting for him to start walking so she could follow him. The brunet smiled at her one last time and started on his way, moving away from the two men still writhing on the ground, and climbing the road to the camps. 

As they traveled, the girl was approaching with each step, and when they reached the top of the castle, she was so close that Peter could even hear her talking, telling him how she had lost track of her parents when the pirates attacked her house. Peter tried to calm her with the hope that maybe her parents were hiding in the camp, as many others had. 

The girl ran to the tents, and Peter lost sight of her then. The brunet sighed. He was tired. He hadn't been able to sleep all night, and sitting down had been an unattainable luxury. 

"You're as stubborn as a mule," Peter heard a hoarse and exhausted voice at his side, and the owner of it made his heart pop out of his chest. 

"Wade!" 

Peter launched to embrace the heir, stopping as soon as he did and jumping away to observe with wide eyes the physical state of his lover. "By the gods, what happened to you?" 

Wade shrugged his good shoulder and grimaced. "Well Baby boy, I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a battle out there." 

Peter glared at him and took a deep breath so as not to throw his fist against Wade's shoulder. "I know it was the battle, you twat, but what exactly happened to you?"

"I'm sorry, it's the fatigue." Wade sighed and slowly raised his arm to his shoulder, face pinched when it moved indirectly. Peter bit his lip and came over to help. "A wretch hit me with a spear on the shoulder that was just beginning to know life without breaking." 

"Now it will take longer to heal," Peter said, frowning in thought. Wade rolled his eyes and leaned over to kiss him. 

"You're very good at lifting other's spirits, Baby boy." 

Peter laughed and shrugged, pursing his lips without shame. "You'll be fine, just with a disfigured shoulder." 

"A knight in shining armor, Peter," Wade groaned, leaning on the brunet to walk back to his tent. 

The place was full, all the spaces on the floor were being used. Wade was hoping for a good sleep in his bed, but apparently, someone had decided to rent his tent and it had become a place for the sick. Wade looked at Peter, who smiled ashamed, shrugging to himself and looking around for some available space. 

"They were afraid, I couldn't just throw them out there. May had the idea, and I-" 

Wade stopped him by placing a hand over his mouth, though a pained grunt interfered and then a chuckle. "I would've never asked you to do the opposite, Peter." 

"Take him to my tent!" Vanessa shouted to their right, drawing the attention of both. "No one is sleeping there. Charles will go immediately." 

Peter nodded and didn't wait for Wade's opinion before starting the slow trek to the tent. Even Charles with his failing legs caught up with them before they entered. The maester checked his wounds, sighing tiredly when the heir's clothes were removed and he found a big bruise on his shoulder, quite purple and with red dots that indicated broken capillaries. Peter frowned and Wade hissed. 

"Alright, I will prepare the remedies. They'll make the wounds heal faster, prevent them from becoming infected, and refresh the hot areas." Without warning, the maester took Wade's arm nimbly, placed his hand on Wade's shoulder and stretched up his arm, until a crack indicated it was back in place. 

Wade squealed and gasped, but Charles simply stood up and continued to pull herbs and oils out of his suitcase. "Help him get clean, Peter. His shoulder is in place and the remaining pain is from the bruise, but that will go away eventually." A tear rolled down out of the corner of Wade's eye, and Peter smiled in understanding. Charles, on the other hand, continued speaking. "Put this on his wounds once you have them clean, and tie his arm with this cloth, hanging from his neck, is that clear?" 

Peter nodded. "As water." 

Charles did the same, thanking him before leaving through the curtains of the entrance. "Al is safe, Wade," the maester shouted from outside. 

Wade blinked several times at the ceiling, and Peter chuckled. "Sometimes I think that man hates me." Wade sighed, standing up. "Even though he left me in your care, so he probably doesn't hate me that much." 

"Charles cares so much for you that it hurts him to do so." 

Wade laughed and followed Peter to a chair the brunet placed next to the table that Charles had left with all the medications. Peter put some cloths on the table and went out to bring buckets of water, Wade waited a moment, thinking about many things, the least that crossed his mind was the battle. Wade knew they had won it, the remaining men of the enemy group were scattered around the capital city, and they would be easier to catch. 

But Wade wasn't thinking about that, but about his past. 

Peter entered, holding two large buckets in his hands and leaving them next to Wade before returning to the entrance and closing the curtain. He looked exhausted, Wade knew that the brunet needed to rest as much as he did, if not more. Peter wet the cloths and began to run them over Wade's arms and back, lovingly and delicately, being careful when he found an open wound. 

Wade felt pampered, loved and appreciated, something he hadn't felt from anyone in a long time. Peter ran his hands over his scars and didn't even flinch, he even seemed to want to touch them more, feel them closer. Wade took one of Peter's hands with his good arm and stroked his knuckles. 

Peter stopped and looked at him. "Something wrong?" 

"Tell me about your life, Pete." 

The brunet looked at him for a moment, thinking, not knowing what to say that could be interesting, then cleared his throat and released his hand from Wade's to dip the cloth back into the water and continue the bath. "My parents disappeared when I was still a little boy, so my aunt and uncle were the ones who raised me," Peter began, slowly sliding the cloth over the wound on Wade's shoulder. "At a young age, when I was starting to work in the barn, a man murdered my uncle, a matter of money or something like that, then my aunt and I were left alone in this world. I suffered a lot, it still hurts me to have lost him, he was a great man with a huge heart, naturally, only a man like that could have made my aunt fall in love with him." 

Wade agreed with a smile and Peter chuckled. "His name was Ben." 

"Like the horse?" 

Peter beamed and nodded. "Yeah, well, the horse was named in his honor, although only I call him Ben." 

Wade laughed and Peter sighed, leaving aside the cloth to take the medical oils and scatter them over the wounds on Wade's torso. "Uncle Ben was sure that I would grow up to become a great man, but I ended up being a stable boy. I just hope he feels proud." 

"Hey," Wade said, taking Peter's hands in his and looking at him, although the brunet kept his eyes on the ground. "Your uncle would be more than proud, look at all the people out there that you've helped and offered hope in such a stormy time. You are their hero, Peter. You didn't just stay inside the tent doing nothing. Instead, you decided to help those who have nothing to give and much to lose." 

"I should have been out there," Peter whispered. 

"You were!" Wade reminded him, stroking his fingers and raising his good arm to caress Peter's cheek. "Those boats didn't burn themselves, you did that! And sure, along with Tony, but let's be honest, the mastermind was you." 

Peter laughed and sniffed, nodding a little and looking at Wade. "I feel a bit proud of that." 

"And you should!" Wade said, nodding with a big grin. "You were amazing and saved many lives, including mine." 

Peter laughed shyly again and wiped his nose, letting go of Wade's grip "Enough of that, I have something for you." Wade raised an eyebrow and Peter smiled, moving away towards the curtains of the entrance "Wait here, I left it in your tent." 

The silence lengthened in the dark-fabric tent, only the light of the candles illuminated its interior and that tenuous line of natural light that penetrated the open spaces. Peter came back, his smile big and shy, making Wade blush without knowing why. 

"I read the book of flowers," Peter explained, approaching Wade and clearing his throat as an act of courage in his flirting. "There was a flower whose meaning I liked, and I realized they grow in the nearby forests." 

Wade raised an eyebrow and smiled like a blinded fool. "There are many flowers in that book." 

"But only one that will help me explain myself," Peter pulled his hands from behind his body, discovering a flower with a yellow pistil and several white petals surrounding its circumference. "It's a-" 

"White Ambrosia," Wade whispered, suddenly remembering that witch near the port and a tremor enveloped his body. 

Peter nodded and placed it on Wade's hand. " _Love returned,_ " he whispered, stroking Wade's cheek. "If everything goes well, I'll go with you to Lupine." 

It was only seconds what his lips lasted without the delicious pressure of Peter's on them, and when they joined Wade felt his skin burn and his heart rush. The flower was forgotten on the heir's lap, and one of his hands ascended to pull Peter's hair and discovered his neck, the brunet whined and Wade did too, although his was in real pain, for Wade tried to raise his wounded shoulder and stars appeared on Peter's neck like the tattoos of the Templar Knights. 

"Wade!" Peter gasped, moving away to hold his shoulder. "You are forbidden to move, now we will continue with your cleaning." 

Wade groaned, but the corners of his mouth lifted and he let Peter finish the healing, as he wetted the cloth again and continued with his legs, releasing the fatigue in them. He was evading a particular place, and Wade couldn't help but laugh inwardly. 

When Peter finished, he took the trays in both arms and was going to throw the water in the ground outside, but Wade stopped him, they had only used one of the buckets, the worst they could do was throw away clean water. Peter looked at him confused, and Wade smiled. "Let me wash you, too." 

Peter looked at him with narrowed eyes, as if Wade was mocking him. "I have no injuries and you shouldn't make any effort." 

"Let me clean you, Peter, for the love of Mother Earth." Wade smiled and the brunet glared at him for a moment, before releasing the laces of the shirt and lifting it over his head. Wade tried not to drool, but his eyes did not fulfill that promise. There were mud spots, and recent scars all over Peter's torso, but his skin was still soft and velvety. There was nothing unholy about a creature so perfect. 

Peter laughed and pulled down his pants, standing alone in his shorts. Then he looked up and placed his thumbs on the edge of the underwear "Should I take it off?" 

Wade cleared his throat and shrugged, placing the ambrosia on the table. "If you want to." 

Peter bit his lip to keep from laughing and lowered them, setting them aside and looking at Wade with daggers as eyes, before sitting down on the wooden chair to wait for the heir. Wade swallowed hard and cleared his throat again, bending down to take a new cloth and wet it in the still-clean water. 

With his good hand, Wade grabbed Peter's arm, while the brunet kept his eyes on him, _tempting, waiting._ And although Wade did know exactly what they were waiting for, he pretended ignorance. 

The cloth ran through every space of skin he found, and sweat and dirt were left behind as the water left a trace with the passage of his hand. Peter's shoulders were small but strong, and Wade massaged every knot he found, drawing moans of appreciation. His hands descended, cleaning Peter's back and surrounding his stomach and chest, evoking a gasp when the cloth brushed one of the brunet's nipples and lowered very close to his manhood. 

But Wade ignored it, continuing his trajectory to Peter's tired legs and massaging his thighs with firm fingers as the cloth cleaned the dirt. Before continuing to his calves, Wade wet the cloth again and looked up. He found Peter's eyes on him, heavy eyelids and attentive stare, his mouth was half open and his breathing was slow, lifting his chest with eagerness. 

Wade grinned and continued his work, massaging Peter's calves, ignoring the growing cock in front of him and the movement of the other's hips over the chair. Peter was desperate, and Wade enjoyed it, even if he down there was feeling the same. 

The brunet bit his lip when Wade raised his hands again and slid down his inner thighs, continuing deeper until he reached where Peter wanted. Wade chuckled, and his voice sounded husky with desire. "Want me to help you there?" 

Peter continued to bite his lip but didn't answer, to which Wade slipped his hand between Peter's buttocks and ran the cloth over his puckering hole. Peter gasped and Wade smiled. "I must clean you well, it's important." 

"Stop playing!" Peter pleaded and glared at him, though his hips moved to the edge of the chair, where Wade stopped him with a hand on his knee. 

"There's a magic word." 

"Fuck you?" 

Wade snorted and Peter smiled, blushing instantly. "Wow Baby boy, that's some tongue you have there." 

His hand wrapped around Peter's cock, still holding the cloth, and the brunet's smile faded to give way for a moan. Wade moved the cloth over his dick, letting go only to wet it again. Peter trembled under his touch, and Wade leaned down to kiss his thighs as his hand returned to its initial place and continued the movement. 

"Wade," Peter gasped, raising his hand to stroke the heir's head. "I want to do it together." 

"Shh, you do it first." 

His hand slid slowly down, then slowly up, curling at the tip to caress the head. Peter gasped and shook his head. "No, stop!" 

Wade jumped away as soon as he was asked to, looking at the brunet with wide eyes and hands up, but Peter didn't seem scared nor disgusted, he just looked confused. 

"Are you alright?" the heir asked. 

Peter nodded and then laughed, covering his face with shame for he realized his sudden anxiety. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to stop everything, I just really want to do it together." 

Wade looked at him perplexed, blinking as Peter bit his lip, then he glowered at the brunet. "You scared me!" 

Peter shook his head and stood up to get as close as possible to the heir, wrapping his arms around his neck and standing on tiptoe to kiss him, long and slow, their tongues found a way into each other’s mouths and their breaths were caught in the play. 

Slowly and blindly they approached the bed, and the one who fell first was Peter, who directed Wade carefully towards the edge, the heir's wounds were still recent, and at the moment the least Peter wanted to see were some strings of blood. 

The brunet took Wade's cock in his hands and kissed the heir's lower stomach, taking his time with the scars and wounds that his lips met. His wrist curled and Wade moaned, moving closer to the bed to take a fist of brown hair between his fingers and pull enough to make Peter whine. He then lay down next to Peter, who slowly straddled him while caressing each nub of his ribs with the tips of his free hand. 

"You said we would do it together," Wade groaned, sitting up to kiss Peter in frustration, for his hands didn't seem to cope with all his desires. The brunet laughed against his mouth and gasped when Wade took his cock with his good hand. "Now we're even." 

Peter smiled and continued to move his hand, stretching his other arm to the side to take the oil Charles had left to wet his fingers with it. Wade did the same, but instead of taking Peter's dick, he lowered a little more and caressed his hole. 

Peter gasped and looked at him surprised, to which Wade left his hand immobile. "If you ask me to stop, I will." 

Peter shook his head, but his eyes remained open and a crimson blush ran through his body. "I just want to know what you're doing." 

Wade sighed with relief and nodded, taking Peter's hand and aligning it with his own ring of muscle, before he placed his hand between Peter's buttocks again. "It's for the body to get used to it. I'll do it to you and you do it to me. Is that alright?" 

Peter nodded, although the expression he was wearing did not seem so sure. The heir massaged a little around, to lubricate, and Peter did the same with insecure fingers. Slowly, Wade pushed in a finger, causing Peter to cut his breath and clench inside. 

"Shh," Wade soothed. "Try to relax. I promise I will not hurt you. Do it with me as well." 

"It burns," Peter whispered, moving his hips a little. "Is that normal?" 

Wade smiled and nodded. "At the beginning, it's normal for it to be uncomfortable, but you'll get used to it. We'll just go little by little, alright? Do it with me." 

Peter took a deep breath and then nodded, slowly inserting his middle finger into Wade's hole, who bit into a gasp. "Fuck, see? It's not that hard." 

"Is it uncomfortable for you, too?" Peter asked, and Wade shook his head. 

"Not as much as at the beginning." 

"Have you done _this_ before?" Peter asked in surprise, pointing with his gaze to where their hands were hiding, and Wade laughed loudly. 

"Once or twice, by myself or with some of the harlots that offer to do it," Wade shrugged and moved his finger a little inside Peter, who frowned. 

"Why?" 

"I'll show you," Wade said, as he flexed his finger and pressed forward. Peter gasped and the heir smiled. "See? It feels good once you get used to it." 

"What did you push?" Peter asked, his voice barely a sigh. 

Wade smiled and pointed to Peter's hand under his ass. "Do it too, just lean your finger forward, it's soft but very sensitive and- Ah!" 

Peter laughed, looking at Wade with entertained eyes. "Now what?" 

"Now we continue," Wade said, leaning down to kiss Peter again with the thirst of a hungry man, moaning when Peter's finger moved, searching and pressing against that bunch of nerves. Wade curled his finger deftly, and Peter moaned again as precum slid down his shaft. 

"Since my shoulder doesn't work, how about you finish both of us?" 

Peter laughed and with his good hand took Wade's dick, still moving his finger inside the heir and massaging in circular movements the cock that was already on edge. "Shit," Wade moaned, gasping as Peter kissed the length of his neck and continued to ascend up to his earlobe. "You're good, Baby boy." 

Peter gasped with a playful smile and moved his hip against Wade's hand, his body was already getting used to it and that was good. Wade took the opportunity to insert another finger, and Peter whimpered but didn't stop, his body was trembling and blushing all over, while drops of sweat went down his chest and abs, and his own hand imitated Wade's as a second finger found the other inside the heir. 

Orgasm began to rise, and Wade raised his hip to emphasize it, clenching inside as his moans were muted by his gasps. Peter moved his hand on Wade's cock faster, panting against Wade's ear to increase his pleasure as his hot breath hit his cheek. Wade whined loudly, compressing his stomach and letting pleasure win over the pain as his release painted Peter's hand and wet the sheets under his body. 

After a round of pants, Wade pushed Peter to the bed and started stroking him without mercy, fingering the myriad of freckles and training bruises that dotted Peter’s skin with the single-mindedness of a conqueror. Here and there Wade would suck down, adding marks of his own to his map of a body. Peter moaned and Wade continued down to his hip, where he bit the bone to leave a beautiful red mark on the pale skin. 

He dipped his fingers in oil again, and Peter bit his lower lip when Wade pushed the tips inside his heat again. Now there were three, and Peter felt his senses begin to fail him, and when Wade took him in his mouth, Peter screamed. Wade swallowed all of him expertly, deft tongue stroking against his slit so perfectly Peter feared he would go blind. He thrashed against the bed. "Ah, Wade." 

As he did so Wade’s fingers shifted ever so slightly, brushing against that thing that made Peter’s eyes roll back in his head. The heir hummed against his manhood and Peter gasped loudly when Wade let go. It was too much all at once, and Peter could barely feel the warmth of his orgasm on his belly before he realized he had come. 

Both laid there on the sheets, exhausted, Peter's body still trying to cope with the little spasms, and his eyes closed as he tried to return to reality. Wade smiled, for despite the cuts and bruises on his body, he had never felt so relaxed. 

"When we go back to Lupine," Wade whispered, turning to Peter with his good shoulder on the futon. "I promise we will do this every morning and night." 

Peter chuckled and nodded, and though Wade knew the brunet was already entering the dream world, it still made him happy to think about such a good future. 

~ ° ~ 

Wade woke up with a sharp pain all over his body that stole his air, he had to lie down for another hour for him to fall into the reality that the battle had given him a real beating. Peter was by his side, still sleeping like someone who had not slept properly in days, and Wade was sure that was the case. 

Sunlight entered through the opening of the curtains and illuminated just enough inside the tent, whose dark-blue fabrics prevented everything from being fully bright. Which reminded Wade that he wasn't even in his own tent. 

Slowly Wade stood up, wincing with each movement. He knew it was the numbness of his limbs still aching from the long sleep, but as soon as he managed to move enough, his brain would simply get used to the pain. The only thing that kept him in peace was knowing that if he had been able to sleep all dawn and part of the day, it was because the battle had gone well out there. 

Sighing, Wade took the oils that Charles left him and spread them over his wounds, cleaning one or two that looked dirty. The open wounds were not as many as the bruises on his body, so at least Wade knew he would be saved from an infection. His clothes were on the table next to the chair that Wade chose to ignore or he would probably have an erection while getting dressed. 

Before leaving he leaned over to kiss Peter on the temple, and the brunet simply moved a little between the sheets but didn't wake up. Wade smiled, watching the white ambrosia on the table one last time, and with narrowed eyes and a hand over his eyebrows, the heir left the Carlysle tent to see what was happening in the camp. 

Chaos spread across the lawn. Tents were not enough to support so many wounded and frightened people. Many soldiers from important houses were present and helping, so Wade was right, everything had gone well during the night. Vanessa greeted him, and Wade did the same, putting the black cloth around his neck. 

"Do you want me to help you with that?" The woman asked, approaching to kiss Wade on the cheek. 

Wade shook his head and pointed at the Lady, dirty and wearing wrinkled clothes "Don't _you_ want me to help you? You haven't been able to sleep." 

Vanessa shook her head and bit her lip, looking at her hands forming a knot on her skirts. Wade noticed her anxiety and decided to wait for her to tell him. "They wanted to push the poor out of the castle as soon as they noticed common people were in the royal camp, so I had to fight some words against important men and the Royal Guard. That kept me awake. Then King John ordered that everyone who needed to heal their wounds and eat should be allowed in, but that if they were well they had to leave, because there was not so much space, and that's understandable." 

Vanessa sighed and looked at Wade with concern. "But then he said that he would go out there." 

"The King?" Wade frowned, the boy was too young. 

Vanessa nodded. "Yes, the King, some of his important men had not returned, among those his father, so he went to look for them, but since then they have not returned, neither he nor those men. It's been hours, Wade." 

"What men?" The heir asked, looking around to count those present. Vanessa sighed tiredly and looked to the side. 

"A few from house Ferrum, my father... and your father," Vanessa looked up and wiped away the tears, diverting her attention to the medicines Wade was carrying. 

"Logan has not returned?" The question came out in a whisper, and suddenly the wounds hurt a little more. 

Vanessa shook her head and cleared her throat, turning to see Charles, who was approaching. "No, but do not even think about going out there," she threatened. "In the condition you are in, you would be one more of the dead." 

Charles stood next to the young man and looked at Wade with baggy eyes. "Don't worry, Sir Wade, the royal guard is out there looking for them, especially since the king disappeared." 

Wade nodded and stretched his hand to give the oils back to the maester, trying to appear indifferent. "Yes, it's fine." 

The other two looked at each other skeptically but opted to leave it at that. The rest of the day was agonizing, and Wade knew they were watching him, but at some point, a slip would occur, one of the two would take their eyes off and Wade would leave. He had no armor, and with the state of his body putting one on would take an eternity, and Wade didn't have an eternity. 

As soon as Charles went into the tent to look for his things, and Vanessa turned her back to feed a group of children, Wade took his shield and sword and left the camp behind to go out there. Most enemy men had been stopped. Wade just had to be careful. 

The ships in the sea with the black flags had been emptied or burned. At the edge of the pier, there were men lying on the sand with their hands on their heads, while the king's soldiers were checking them and writing things down on parchments. Further inside the forest, all that could be heard were mourning, wounded men passing, carrying more wounded men, going up to the camp. Others had simply died among the trees and were left there until someone could pick them up, be it the nuns or the animals. 

Beyond that, everything was silent. The capital city was left behind, and the voices of the people had been forgotten. Wade was slowly searching with his eyes, that had been the route where Wade had seen Logan leave the last time they saw each other. The Lord of Lupine preferred the forest, it was where he and his men moved and hid better. Wade knew that his mentor was fine, maybe some scratches, but nothing that couldn't be treated. 

He would put aside the thought of death to the last drop of hope. 

"Logan," Wade started calling, silent and like a whisper. "Logan if you're around then moan a little." 

The silence was claustrophobic in situations like that and Wade preferred to move the branches in his path instead of nothing. "Logan, stop playing hide and seek, man, you're too old for that." 

A moan made Wade stop short, and his breathing was cut when another like it followed. "Logan?" The person didn't answer, but his moans were those of a wounded man, a man who could perhaps take him to Logan and his group of men. "Keep doing that, I'm close." 

The ground was flatter in this area, Wade was already at the foot of the hill. Nearby could be heard the river and the moans of that man. Small amounts of earth rose from time to time, surrounded by orange and yellow leaves that indicated the arrival of autumn. It was next to one of those mounds of earth that Wade found the King, lying on his back against the small hill that surrounded a fallen trunk, and holding his wounded stomach. 

"Shit," Wade whispered, looking around to make sure the attacker was not around and approached cautiously. "What happened?" 

The king seemed not to be waiting for him, and as if he hadn't heard Wade's call just a moment ago. He jumped in surprise and stopped his whines. Wade raised both arms and remained complacently quiet. "My name is Wade, the heir of house Howlett. I'm not wearing armor because I snuck out, but my shield has the wolf, see?" 

John looked at him with a frown and settled back on the mound of earth and vegetation, looking at his wound and letting out a breathy sigh. "I did not find my father," then he looked up to observe Wade. "Nor yours." 

Wade looked to the side and bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn't leave a man wounded and alone in the forest, let alone the King. Maybe he could leave him in the camp and quickly return to the forest. The effort would waste all of Wade's energy, but it was either that or let the King die. "Very well, I will get you out of here." 

John shook his head and again held the bleeding wound in his stomach. It seemed as if he had been struck by a sharp blade in the middle, and Wade couldn't understand how John hadn't been killed if he did not even wear armor. "You must go look for my Hand and your father. I'm sure they're close. I heard some murmurs before the others attacked me. Maybe if you go-" 

"Shut up or I'll kill you myself," Wade replied, bending down to observe the king's wound more carefully. "You should get help as soon as possible, kid, you're bleeding to death." 

"You call me kid and you're only a few years older than me," John laughed and winced. A trickle of blood came out of his mouth and Wade realized that nothing was right with him. 

"Yes, but I'm not the kid who is dying." Wade raised the King's doublet and observed the wound. It was almost as deep to touch important organs, but that hadn't happened and what mattered now was to stop the bleeding. "I think you will survive, just try not to lose more blood." 

The king's laughter sounded weaker. "I'll try." 

"Or you could let him die." The voice of a third person made Wade jump up and lift his sword in their direction. Helmut was there, standing a few steps away from them and observing calmly, carrying a sword that was hanging from his belt. "Sir Wade Wilson, adopted son of Logan Howlett and heir of Lupine... I've heard you have a secret lover." 

Wade shrugged, still holding the sword. "Too late for you, it's not even a secret anymore." 

Helmut did not seem impressed, moving the earth under his feet with his boot. "I also heard that it is forbidden." 

Wade glared at him, and Helmut simply smiled. "There are many ways to fix that, and one of them is killing the king." John groaned a little beside Wade, but the heir didn't take his eyes off Helmut, who continued speaking. "You don't even have to kill him, just letting him die there will be more than enough." 

"You think I would give the throne to a murderer?" Wade growled, and Helmut simply shrugged. 

"You are a murderer yourself. What weight do my crimes have against yours?" 

John looked at Wade in amazement and the heir to Lupine hardened his gaze. "In times like these who's not a murderer?" 

"Of course, but you killed as a young boy." 

"I was surviving in the streets." 

"Me, too." Helmut laughed and extended his arms. "You could afford to marry who you love. Think about it! It's just us three here. You could kill him and then me, say that I killed him and you killed me. The crown would be yours and you wouldn't have to wait for anyone to give you the right to be with the servant." Wade growled, making Zemo smile because he knew his words affected fresh wounds. "Jameson and the priest would never give you that permission if the King is still alive." 

Wade nodded and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the King, who looked increasingly pale. Helmut continued. "It's just a throne and a crown, simple things that would involve many freedoms." 

"Enough." 

"Think of him, wouldn't you like to spend a lifetime with someone you love?" 

"Shut up!" 

"You would have power over everything that surrounds you. You could love him all your life and nobody could punish you for it." 

"Enough, I said!" Wade shouted, turning towards the king, who watched him with panic when Wade raised his sword, hands trembling and some tears in his eyes. "I love him," Wade admitted, nodding and breathing hard. "Do you know how much I would give to be with him for all eternity?" 

The King took a small shaking breath, looking into the eyes of a desperate man. John nodded and closed his eyes. There was nothing he could do but close his eyes and wait for the cut in his neck, but Wade chuckled and shook his head. 

"But he would hate me if I killed you," the heir whispered, rising to attack a man hiding behind a tree near the king, waiting to kill him. 

John opened his eyes and breathed deeply, watching as Wade stopped the other's blows with one hand, while Helmut watched this with neutrality. The traitor placed his hand on the handle of his sword, and John felt useless. He did not have a sword nearby nor a fighting strength. Wade managed to strike a blow against the other man's side, he was big, almost the size of a giant of Harkanon. 

A groan drew John's attention back to Helmut, who had just been wounded in the leg. By Peter. The brunet was breathing fast and holding his sword with the tip pointing at the man's head. "Surrender now. Take your men who are still alive and leave." 

Helmut seemed to hesitate a moment, his hand holding the sword tightly while Peter held his in front of his face, the brunet looked impatient. It was obvious that he wanted to go help his lover with the giant. Helmut raised both hands and stood up, before moving away, with some difficulty due to his injured leg. 

Peter did not go after him. Instead, he ran to help Wade, who at this point only tried to dodge the blows without throwing attacks. John watched Helmut walk away, his vision clouded by the loss of blood. At one point two people were in front of him, taking him by the legs and arms to go towards the camp. 

"The traitor," the king whispered. 

"The royal guard will catch him," Peter said, with the little breath he had left. He had probably run there. 

The way back was difficult, climbing a hill with a man on the verge of fainting and another with a single working arm, Peter had to do most of the work, but he tried not to complain, his energies were renewed and he would never ask more from Wade. Somewhere along the way, men of the royal guard appeared, taking the king in their arms and running to the camp, Wade then leaned on Peter and both continued on their way alone. Already the voices of the people could be heard nearby, and their silhouettes were visible among the trees. 

"The men who were missing, did they appear?" Wade asked, though his real concern was one specific man. 

Peter shrugged, a little sorry for not being able to answer him correctly. "I came running as soon as I knew you had left, so I don't know if they have. You should have woken me up and I would've gone with you." 

Wade nodded, dropping his head forward. He needed wine. "I know, thank you for saving me." 

Peter shrugged, taking the last steps towards the hill. "How couldn't I save the man who saved the king?" 

Charles came running to them and Peter sighed in relief, stopping to allow other arms to help him carry the heir. "I saved him for you," Wade said, with the voice of a stunned drunk. "For our love." 

Peter snorted and blushed when Charles looked at them with a raised eyebrow, the brunet cleared his throat and looked away. "I think he needs medicine." 

Charles nodded and hid his chuckle. "Yes, I think so, too." 

Wade hobbled toward the tent, leaning over Peter and listening to Charles, who was talking about good news and other not so good while giving him a white liquid. The heir understood only half of the maester's words, and simply nodded the rest of the time. His tent had been evacuated, and Wade was taken in to be treated there, but once there his legs trembled and his breathing failed again. 

Logan smiled when he saw his heir enter, the Lord's face was scratched and his leg wrapped in cloth, but otherwise, he was in one piece. "Fuck, that's bad, kid, you look worse than me, and I'm supposed to be older." 

Wade let go of both men who were holding him, and ran to the Lord of Lupine, throwing himself upon him in a big hug. Logan stayed completely static, not knowing what to do because signs of affection were very strange between them. 

"I thought you were dead," Wade said, crying against the Lord's shoulder. 

Logan looked at Charles with a raised eyebrow, and the maester simply smiled while shrugging. "I gave him poppy powder," he explained, a drink that stuns and puts anyone to sleep. Peter bit his lip at the maester's side to keep from laughing and lowered his eyes so he wouldn't intrude. 

Logan sighed and nodded, clearing his throat and patting Wade's shoulder with the discomfort of someone who does not know affection. "I'm alive, now stop crying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have written or read action scenes, should know how hard it is to write them and get them right; I really don't know how good I did but I hope it wasn't that bad lol. So now you know why it took me so long to write this chapter (Also because of the Spideypool big bang, [this particular story.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15182834/chapters/35210822). You really don't have to read it if you don't want to, I just left it there as a subliminal message muahaha)
> 
> Anyway, the battle wasn't long as you could see, and the rest of this will be pure fluff and sexy times hehe!
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, as always <3


	11. Farewell

It was the following week, when the sun settled in the sky, autumn breezes became more evident, and the victory settled definitively on their shoulders, that the people of Klariono came out of the shadows of their hiding places to study their surroundings, and find that almost everything was in ruins. 

The catapults had demolished everything that was close to the coast, and the pirates who had managed to enter the capital city while the last feast was being held had burned most of the houses and destroyed monuments, looting even the main church. 

The priest Eadgar was burning with fury, and while his nuns prayed for forgiveness in their souls, the priest demanded an audience with the King that lasted several hours, among which was rumored the request to lock Peter and other sinners in a dungeon because naturally, they were responsible for the evil that befell on the city. Wade insisted that those were just rumors, Peter knew better. He thought that the sooner they left Klariono, the better. 

"We'll leave tonight, then," Wade said, without asking his father or his maester, but with the assurance of a man who has beaten death several times in a single night. 

"I'll go pick up my things then," Peter whispered, tying behind the heir's neck the cloth that held his arm. The bruises and open wounds were beginning to heal, his shoulder would take longer and Peter feared that the trip would turn into torture for Wade. 

Once the oils and medicinal herbs were left on the table, Peter sighed slightly. If Wade's words were true, that would be his last day in Klariono, the place that saw him born and grown, that took away his uncle and gave him love. The conflict was great, especially because Peter still hadn't visited his house, or what was left of it. He did not know if there was even something to recover or if he would find it whole, the hopes were not very high in the latter. 

"I'll go with you," Wade insisted, standing up with less difficulty than days before, and smirking in Peter's direction, the brunet looked down and shrugged. 

"There might be something to save," he said, and Wade nodded. Peter knew that once in Lupine, he would not need anything of what he and May had in his humble home. He would have everything at his disposal and his current clothes would probably be discarded, but that didn't eliminate the nostalgia, and Peter was grateful that Wade did not stop him. 

~ ° ~ 

Vanessa learned that her life was limited from the day her mother insisted on teaching her to knit instead of fighting, when her play time pants were replaced by gala dresses that did not allow a single mud stain, or since her father asked her to keep quiet when he was discussing political matters with some other Lord. 

Vanessa knew her place in life, but that did not mean she was satisfied with it. 

Her father had died, the news had hurt like burning fire in her still wounded heart, because although Vanessa wanted to appear hardened like metal, inside she was still an insecure young woman, and it was impossible not to let out a few tears once she was alone in her tent, because Vanessa always wanted to hear, even once, her father praising her for some feat. It was pathetic, but a reality. 

Her father's allies asked for her hand almost immediately, but Vanessa denied them, thanking their interest in pure formality, "Now is not a good time," she always replied. "I need to cope with the death of my father and speak with my maester to study the affairs of my kingdom." 

Some men laughed in her face, others like Lord Vision and Lady Scarlett bowed and wished her a great legacy. A week had passed, Vanessa had to go home and start working in her town, fix her father's mistakes and raise her power, she felt her chest burn and a huge anxiety creeping up her spine, but she wanted to believe in her abilities. 

Natasha entered Vanessa's tent just as Vanessa closed the last of her chests and dragged it towards the entrance, the warrior woman came to help her and smiled when Vanessa looked at her with a frown. Since the night Vanessa learned of her father's death in battle, Natasha had not returned to Vanessa's tent. And Vanessa reproached her for that. 

"I do not need help," Vanessa said, arrogant as an angry girl, she knew it was pathetic but didn't care. "We will leave in a few hours and distractions are the least I-" 

Natasha silenced her with a kiss, caressing her cheek while her lips devoured any reproach. Vanessa let herself go, feeling her cheeks get wet without realizing that it was the product of her own tears. 

"I'm sorry," Natasha whispered, joining their foreheads and cleaning Vanessa's tears with her thumbs. 

"You disappeared when I needed you the most," Vanessa said, growling and pushing the other woman's shoulders "You only wanted me for fun, but I tell you, I do not have time for that anymore, I have to go home and fulfill my duties." 

"You were and are more than that, Vanessa." Natasha began to kiss her eyelids, nose, cheeks, and Vanessa tried to push her away without much effort."But I did not want to intervene with your decisions. From the moment I learned about your father, I knew I had to wait, give you space to decide better for yourself what you wanted to do, but when I heard that you rejected all the candidates, I realized how stupid I was to stay away instead of trying to fight for you." 

"You were very stupid!" Vanessa screamed, glaring at her. 

Natasha nodded and sighed, walking away to the entrance, where she took someone by the neck and dragged him into the tent, it was Wade, who complained about the treatment. Vanessa was very confused. "I reunited with Sir Wade a few minutes ago," explained Natasha. "To ask for your hand in exchange of alliance." 

Wade cleared his throat, arranging his disheveled clothes and nodded, to which Vanessa frowned even more confused. "What? Why Wade?" 

"Because he is registered as your future husband." 

Vanessa looked at Wade, who shrugged his good shoulder. Then the Lady of Feles returned her gaze to Natasha. "Wade and I broke that marriage weeks ago!" 

"But it was not official!" Natasha replied, raising a sheet in her hands, written by a real chronicler and signed by Wade and Natasha. "Now it is, you are free to choose who you marry, or if you want to be free, everything is in your hands." 

Vanessa looked at Wade, and then at Natasha, lowering her attention to the sheepskin that the woman held in her hands, with signatures in ink that was still fresh on the leather. Vanessa Carlysle was declared as a woman free of previously arranged marriage ties, her decision was now hers, and the King himself had signed below, where the King's herald wished Vanessa good germinations in her future. 

After a long pause, Vanessa looked up, her eyes wet with both happiness and sadness, the loss of her father still tightening her breath, but the future was bright. 

"We cannot get married," Natasha said, shrugging with a sigh but smiling anyway. "But you don't need to have those ties anymore." 

In a second, Vanessa was over of her, kissing Natasha with the hunger of a beast. Wade cleared his throat and started to move towards the exit whileboth women undressed without caring of his presence, moans escaping their mouths as Natasha's lips descended to one of Vanessa's nipples, whose dress fell down her hip. 

Wade knew that his presence was no longer necessary, so he went out to meet Peter and his horse by the entrance of the tent. The brunet smiled mockingly when he heard the moans. Wade cleared his throat and nodded. "We may continue now." 

The walk was surrounded by silence, people picking up debris from their homes without saying much, nuns covering bodies with blankets and praying at their side for the forgiveness of their souls, no matter if it was an enemy. Fishermen, merchants, and blacksmiths, returned to their stands to rescue what still worked. 

The only thing that could be heard amid such nostalgia were Ben's hooves clacking against the stone, and the river just behind Peter's house, moving strongly towards the shore. The small hut stood by a fallen tree, with its external walls black with smoke, there was probably a nearby fire that affected its structure, but it did not seem to be damaged elsewhere. 

Peter let out a shaky breath, approaching the door with unstable hands to release the padlocks, his heart was in his hand and he did not know exactly why. His house was well compared to others. 

Wade approached and placed his hand on Peter's, hugging him from behind and placing his chin over Peter's shoulder, he whispered, "We'll do it together." 

Peter looked at him for a moment and nodded, opening the padlocks and breathing deeply. As soon as the door was open, Peter felt his heart squeeze. Everything was in place, safe and sound, the smoke had permeated the small spaces, and part of the roof had gone flying, but everything else was in place. Peter let go of Wade and walked to his room, stopping just under the archway to watch the markers his uncle had drawn to show Peter how much he had grown, the marks stopped at his thirteen moons. 

The milk vetch was still in place, withered and dry, but it was there. Peter smiled at that and took it in his hands, lifting it to show it to Wade, who leaned against the wall and smiled. "I thought that by the time I returned it would not be there, that nothing would be." Peter left the flower on the table and walked to his chest to check his things. "I thought that it would be easier you know, I would not have to deal with having to leave such an important part of my life behind, but it is intact and now it hurts more." 

Wade approached and crouched next to Peter, looking at the floor without saying anything, and Peter didn't need for him to do so. Maybe he just wanted to unbosom himself. He leaned against the heir's chest, and Wade put his arms around Peter. "You know I would never force you. It's your decision." 

Peter frowned and looked up. Wade sounded very sincere in his words, although Peter knew that if he decided to stay, Wade would not leave without him. "I'm glad my house is fine, but I had promised once, that I would pursue my dreams and would become someone better. I will not achieve that here, Wade. My decision is made and I choose you." 

The heir's features seemed to relax, and a little smile appeared on his lips. "Very well, let's start picking what you want to take." 

Peter looked around and sighed, nodding and getting up to move his chest to the entrance of the room, then went to May's room and did the same, nodding once that both trunks were ready to carry, and placed his hands on his waist. "We are ready." 

Wade observed this in complete silence, and once Peter finished, Wade turned his gaze around the house, there were still several things in the house, if not everything. "Is that all you're going to take?" 

Peter looked around and then nodded, Wade continued in disbelief and frowned. "But there are still many things." 

"May and I talked about it," Peter explained, sliding his fingers down one of the worn adobe walls, still decorated with black smoke. "If the house was fine, we would give it to a neighbor who always helped us when we did not have anything. Her house was destroyed and looted, it would be best to leave her a full house." 

The river filled the next silence, and the hole in the roof where the straw was missing made the cold autumn wind move freely around the space. Wade smiled and Peter did the same, avoiding looking at the parts where his uncle Ben used to sit and tell stories or sing with the lute he was still learning how to use and that now was missing four strings and was useless. That did not prevent Peter from placing it inside his chest. There was the wooden chair where May always wove, with so many patches that the next person who decided to sit would probably end up on the floor, or the clay oven that Peter and his uncle had built when Peter was just a child, their reward was a rich pumpkin pie baked by his aunt. 

Everything in that house was a memory, and each space had been part of his life. It hurt to say goodbye, but Peter knew Ben would be happy for their farewell. 

"It's cold," Peter commented, trying to distract himself from his emotions. 

Wade nodded. "Well yes, there's no ceiling." 

They both looked at each other cautiously, and almost immediately let out a snort, laughing until the tears that came out were not of sadness. Peter panted and sighed, smiling at Wade with the sincerity with which he had not done so long ago. "Thank you." 

Wade smiled too, shrugging his good shoulder and approaching to hug Peter. "No need to thank me, I live to see you smile." 

Peter snorted, shaking his head and trying to hide his blush when he picked up his chest. "They're a bit heavy, and it's getting dark. Help me get Ben ready, please." 

It wasn't fast. Wade had approached cautiously and stealthy, slowly in case Peter stopped him, but Peter did not and Wade took the liberty to tilt Peter's chin up and pressed their lips together, not entirely chaste about having a taste when the man's mouth opened under his. Peter gasped, and Wade took the opportunity to savor his reaction, slowly directing Peter against the wall while his hands caressed his sides. 

Peter smiled, since the last time they did it, Wade had been too injured to even try an orgasm, but now they were alone. In Peter's house. With his memories. "My neighbor will come soon." 

"Hmm," Wade continued kissing Peter's jaw. "We'd better warm the room before they arrive." 

Peter laughed and shook his head, raising Wade's head to kiss him with a smile still on his lips. "Let's go to my room." 

Wade nodded, smiling mischievously, and both unraveled from the tangle of limbs. Peter walked confidently, knowing his way, but once they reached the room and they both laid down in the small bed, Peter found himself nervous. He had never fornicated with a man. What he and Wade did that afternoon a few weeks ago had been the closest thing to a sexual encounter with a man Peter had had, but as for the next step, Peter was as inexperienced as he was in the first. 

Wade noticed the difference in his mood, and although he tried not to, a chuckle still escaped his mouth, to which Peter glared at him. "It's my first time," he said defensively. 

"I'm not laughing at that," Wade reassured him, stroking Peter's cheek in a gesture of affection. "We are all always new to something, but I am here to guide you. Believe me, once you know what you're doing, everything is easier." 

Tilting his head, Wade kissed Peter more calmly, while with his hands he removed his own shirt. "I'll let you do it first, like the last time. You do it to me and that's how you learn, then we'll start from there and see what you prefer." 

Peter chuckled and shook his head. "You sound diplomatic, like a lord." 

Wade glared at him and laid down on the bed, untying his pants for the brunet's ease. "I try to be good, and you insult me." 

Peter snorted. "I did not insult you, it's your future." Unconsciously, his hands began to travel on Wade's chest, who stayed lying motionless. He wanted to give Peter the freedom to do as he pleased. 

"Being a lord sounds boring." 

"Being a servant of a king is worse," Peter replied, his fingers stopping at the waistband of Wade's leather pants, hanging freely on the edge of his hip. 

Looking up, Wade smiled at him and nodded, giving Peter the freedom to continue on his way. Peter ignored his blush and lowered the pants until Wade's half-erect dick was free. 

Wade kicked his pants, lifted his leg to take them and took something out of the long pocket, it was oil. Peter snorted and rolled his eyes, but Wade simply smiled proudly. "You will need it." 

Peter took the oil and nodded, looking at the bottle and then at Wade's body. He decided to put it aside for a moment, and with his lips continued his task. A kiss on one of his pectorals made Wade shudder, another on his sternum caused a cut in his breathing, and a bite on his neck emitted a moan. It was amazing to see a man like Wade, fierce and meticulous, melt under his touch. 

Peter climbed into the heir's lap, continuing his journey of kisses and caresses on the torso of his lover, licking and sucking every sensitive space that his fingers found. Wade's body was marked by scars in every corner, and it was hard not to find sensitivity in them. Sliding from his lap, Peter placed himself in the middle of Wade's parted legs, and kissing his hipbones, Peter bent the heir's knees up to have a better view of what he had in front of him. 

The first thing Peter noticed was that there was no hair. Because of the burns, the hair did not grow back. Peter had already noticed that day in Wade's tent, but today he could see it in all its splendor, and it was different. Wade was perfect in his own way, unique. 

"The same as you did last time," Wade said, his voice a sigh and his breathing somewhat agitated. "You don't need to take your time this time. I can handle the pressure." 

Peter nodded, he knew what he had to do, but if Wade found it relaxing to explain the steps, Peter would not silence him. The little bottle of oil was small and the liquid clear. There was a single petal floating inside it, and when Peter uncovered the lid, he understood that it came from a rose. 

Timidly, Peter looked up. He wanted to make sure he was doing things right. Wade was smiling at him, and that helped calm his nerves. Wetting three fingers, Peter closed the bottle, put his hand to Wade's pink entrance, and slowly introduced his middle finger, looking up to look for a reaction. 

Wade bit his lip and nodded, smiling between heavy lashes. "Put the second, I can take it." 

Peter bit his lip to keep from moaning, and a second finger slid fluidly, disappearing into Wade's heat. The heir moaned loudly, and the restraint Wade had been displaying thus far evaporated in an instant. He pulled Peter to a closer distance and slid his hands along Peter’s jaw, bringing him close to capture his mouth yet again. This was no chaste kiss, no humble demonstration of respect. Wade drove his lips apart with his tongue and held Peter’s head in place as he plunged deep into his mouth. 

The rough touch of Wade’s palms sent heat pooling to his groin. His already erect shaft jumped against Wade’s firm thigh, and this time Peter did not try to hide the moan that escaped his mouth, sliding his cock against Wade's leg as if he was in heat. 

"Put it in now!" Wade said, it sounded like an order, and at this point, Peter was in no position to deny him anything. 

"Are you sure it's not going to hurt?" 

Wade nodded quickly. "Trust me." 

Peter swallowed, throat dry and chest tight with nervous anticipation. He fought to think, overwhelmed by the sensation of Wade’s skin against his, Wade’s body under his, Wade’s woodsy scent filling his nostrils. 

Slowly he began to push in, the compressing feeling around the head leaving him breathless. Peter moaned while Wade gasped under his body. "If it hurts," Peter warned, with the little sanity he had left, "you must tell me." 

Wade nodded, although he didn't seem to understand, or simply did not care. "Just keep going." 

Peter took a long breath and continued until his hips completely touched the round, muscular ass, and the air he was holding came out in a groan. Peter stretched his hands out to gently stroke Wade's sides, whispering loving phrases while allowing the pressure to lower. 

Wade was the one who started the movement, sliding his hips forward and backing up to leave Peter without coherent words, until the only phrases Wade could form became a mantra of "please" and "faster." 

Peter thrust with inexperience and without rhythm, but Wade did not seem to mind, and both moaned as the intensity grew. "Gods Wade," Peter whispered, leaning down to kiss the muscular chest in front of him, and wrapping his fist around the other's cock, feeling his release closer and closer. "You feel so good." 

"I'm coming," Wade panted against an arm, raising his back from the mattress to pull Peter closer with one hand and kiss him clumsily, while Peter increased the intensity of his thrusts and the rhythm of his hand. "Fuck Pete!" 

Peter moaned, now kissing Wade's shoulder and feeling the sticky wetness slide down his hand. The rhythm of his hips did not stop, though his muscles tensed and Peter tried to pull out, but Wade wrapped his arm around his waist and did not let him. "I'm close," Peter gasped. 

"Do it," Wade whispered. "I'll be fine." 

Peter let out a moan that sounded almost sore, and buried his face in the curve of Wade's neck, panting as his seed buried itself inside the heir. Wade collapsed then, panting freely and with his eyes closed, and Peter noticed how debauched Wade looked, knowing that his own image was no different, and blushed intensely, lying next to Wade and smiling as the heir turned his head to look at him. 

"We'd better get dressed," Peter whispered. "I don't want my aunt and neighbor to find us like this." 

Wade groaned and rolled his eyes. "Easy for you to say." 

~ ° ~ 

"In that case, you better cut off my savior's head. To kill whoever he loves the most would be the closest thing to tearing his soul apart." 

"Sins have always been paid." 

"There have already been enough losses to give us the luxury of condemning more people." 

"It is not natural!" 

"And sleep with fallen women is?" 

"That's enough!" Jameson grunted, banging his fist on the large reunion table. Priest Eadgar kept his frown and pink cheeks, while his son John, and current king, glared at the priest and crossed his arms over his chest like a stubborn child. James understood that there was still a long way to go, but there was no time, and Priest Eadgar could wait. 

"You will be paid for the arrangements of your temples, but for your other demands, we don't have time," Jameson said, ignoring the priest's furious gaze. "We need the largest number of men and women to rebuild this city and you want us to condemn them to the dungeons?" 

"In the name of the Gods, yes," Eadgar nodded, to which John snorted and Jameson glared at him. 

"In the name of the Gods, we build your temples, and several debts we have for it." 

Eadgar turned red as metal touching fire. "The Gods have been in our favor!" 

"And nobody says the contrary," Jon interfered. "But I cannot demand a boy's head based on rumors." 

"He gave him a flower!" Eadgar growled. 

"I give my mother tons of flowers," Jon murmured. 

"It's different. What they have is carnal!" 

Jameson sighed and rolled his eyes, suppressing a snort for the pathetic situation. "Priest, you know the King and the city have a lot of respect for your church," the man said, glancing at his son intently and ignored the roll of his eyes, "but at this time we cannot meet your demands, taking into account that the heir to Lupine was the one who saved my son's life." 

Eadgar narrowed his eyes, and looking at them seriously, he just sighed defeated and stood up. "The Gods will not be happy, but you made your decision." 

"The constructions will start soon," Jameson said as a dismissal, waiting until the priest was far away enough to speak freely. "If you're really grateful to the Howlett son, I'd advise going to their camp before it's too late." 

His father stood up to leave, and John sat for a moment in front of the central garden of the palace. Before visiting the camp, he would need his herald, pen, and paper. 

~ ° ~ 

Inside the tent there were already a few lit candles, Logan was probably writing agreements and breaking a few others. Peter, on the other hand, was tethering Ben near the water, and Wade, who had already released the cart from the horse, decided to simply observe what was happening around him. 

In the Carlysle tent, the candles had not yet been lit, so Wade supposed that both women had had intercourse to the point of exhaustion, which made him happy. Vanessa really needed a break. The bonfire had been lit in the middle of the camp, where some of the men of the lords and ladies who had not yet left, sat down to eat dried meat and drink wine. 

Gwen and Miles were sitting in front of the bonfire, laughing as they probably remembered old times. Peter soon joined them, having finished with Ben. Wade knew Peter would need that time to say goodbye to his friends, talk, laugh, cry, whatever was necessary before leaving, so Wade decided to go into the tent alone to help Logan. 

The man looked rested. Charles had applied poppy powder and hemp in his drinks enough to knock him out, and both decided to let him sleep for long hours. Wade approached the table, and Logan looked at him for a second before continuing with his notes. 

"Then we'll be leaving tonight?" 

Wade grimaced and nodded. "The night is clear, the road is empty, and the air would do you good?" 

Logan laughed, it was the first time in long moons that Wade had seen him laugh with honest sincerity. "Sometimes you surprise me, kid." 

A throat clearing was heard in the entrance, drawing the attention of both men, and a soldier of the Royal Guard appeared in his white and gold suit, firm as usual in those of his class. "The King comes with important news." 

It was usual that before a guest came in, a messenger would announce his arrival hours or minutes before. In this case, since it was the king, John could enter without even having to inform of his presence. Wade hated that but chose to bite his tongue and lean against the table to pay attention to their unusual guest and the herald who accompanied him. 

The young man with black hair and dark eyes entered the tent less pale than he had been that day in the forest. His eyes looked bright and his smile was not smeared with blood. Wade had seen him like that before, but it was also a relief to be able to witness him full of life again. 

"Your Highness," Logan and Wade said, both bowing a little. 

The king waved his hand to dismiss formalities, and kept the entrance cloth open for Peter to enter, who looked at Wade in confusion, and to tell the truth, Wade looked at him the same way. John did not seem to notice, or simply did not care, for he cleared his throat and eyed his herald impatiently. 

The man seemed to understand and nodded quickly, opening the paper in his hands to read its contents. "King John James Jameson II, will grant lands as equals, peer titles, and rights as equals, to his savior, Wade Winston Wilson-Howlett, and his _close friend_ , Peter Benjamin Parker, so that they can live a full and satisfying life during their future years as _great friends_. The king and all his reign wish you much health and prosperity to the... uh, offspring of both." The herald paused, nodded and continued. "This decree has been signed by the King, Jon James Jameson II himself and no one can break such power." 

After the announcement a long silence spread, in which everyone exchanged glances without knowing very well what to say, much less Peter and Wade who were just beginning to understand the weight of those words. Charles was the first to clear his throat, making a slight bow, turning to Peter. 

"Congratulations, Sir Peter." 

Peter's mouth opened and closed without knowing very well how to react, or if everything was real. "I... I-" Peter watched the king with wide eyes, and John smiled back at him. 

"It's a great burden on your shoulders, Pete, let me say it," John shrugged. "But I know you'll be able to withstand it. Your lands are right next to Lupine, they're small, but we both know that from now on Lupine will be your real home." 

"Oh Gods," Peter whispered, his breathing shaking. "I don't... I do not know what to say." 

"Friends?" Wade interrupted, with the decree in his hands and looking at the king with a raised eyebrow. Logan sighed. 

John grimaced and shrugged. "I could not put _lovers_ , no one would take you seriously and the church would not allow it. Likewise, all those titles will be conferred to Peter just in case you die, Wade, which I hope will never happen, but... It's something."

Wade snorted and wrapped John in a strong hug, which left him breathless for a good minute. "I'm so glad I saved you."

John chuckled, adjusting his doublet after the show of affection. "It's the least I could do." Then he pointed and Peter and smiled. "Take care, Pete, and try to train more. You're very skinny."

Peter was still too speechless to be offended, and the only sane thing that his brain could formulate was a simple, "I will, thank you."

Just like that, John nodded and turned to leave, and everyone made a reverence to say their farewell, more sincere than the first. John stopped at the entrance to the tent and with a whisper said, "I would advise you to leave as soon as possible. The priest and his people still do not know my decision, but it is preferable that if they do, you are already far enough away."

"We'll leave in a few hours," Logan said, nodding his goodbye when the king smiled and walked away.

As the fabrics were closed, Wade pulled Peter for a joyful and deep kiss, making Logan sigh, annoyed, as he returned to his work, while Charles smiled and turned to pack the last things he needed. Peter blushed deeply and hit Wade in the chest as he suddenly remembered they had an audience.

"For the Gods, Baby boy!" Wade said, laughing and kissing Peter's neck no matter who was watching them. "You're basically my wife now."

Peter continued to push him, though he let out a chuckle. "I would not look good in a dress. Now let me go!"

"You better get used to it, kid," Logan growled, though a small smile crossed his lips.

That night Peter said his goodbyes to his friends with strong hugs and words of affection promising his return, or asking them to visit Lupine and he would gladly receive them. Wade embraced and kissed Vanessa and Natasha alike, promising great alliances and prosperous futures. May had already given away their house to her old neighbor and had been late for the trip because she was helping to pick up straw to repair the roof.

That way they set off, with boats full of food, some horses in the cellars, among them Blind Al and Ben, and sitting on the deck with the smell of salt water while they saw the city that gave them so many opportunities disappearing in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so loong, I'm the worst!
> 
> Many things happened in my life and inspiration had been extinguished, but thankfully one of these days I started writing and did _not_ stop until I had the three missing chapters finished :) so yeah, this fic is completely written now, yay!!
> 
> The other two chapters are with my lovely beta reader and as soon as she finishes editing them, I will post chapter 13 and the epilogue. Thank you very much for your patience <3


	12. A Different Begining - Welcome to Lupine

The waves were not a problem in the first days, but after the third night, Peter prayed to see land every time his stomach demanded it. Peter had never been on the open sea for so long. May looked a little affected, but she tried to maintain her dignity, while Peter looked pale and nauseated.  

"I think I'm going to die," he said one day, grabbing the vase that Wade had given him for his nausea. "Remind me never to step on a boat again in my life."  

Wade chuckled, as if it were a joke when Peter spoke very seriously, and handed him the cup of medicinal water that Charles had prepared for him.  

During the nights it was better or worse, there was no in between. The first night the sky looked clear, the stars led their way and the sea had been calm, the second and third night, however, the wind was so strong that the waves crashed against the boat and Peter was trying to think of a solution that would allow him to create wings to return to Klariono.  

That fourth night was the last, Wade had promised and Logan and Charles seconded him, so it was unnecessary to say that Peter was in a state of hope and prayer as he had never been before. The sea hated him, and although Peter did not want to admit it out loud so as not to anger the gods, the feeling was mutual.  

While trying to read one of the books that Charles had lent him about the laws in Lupine, Peter observed a large mountain and a wide, rocky beach in the distance. A gasp escaped his mouth, and Peter closed the book hard to run to Wade and tell him. But the watchman won because from the top he announced the news with a loud: "Captain, land in sight! Land in sight! We have arrived at Lupine, my lord!"  

Peter felt like jumping and dancing, but not yet, he needed to show some sanity in front of his lover's men. With a few bows for appearances, Peter opened the door of the captain's chamber, and closed it with a clearing of his throat, before turning around with a big smile to a Wade who was putting on his boots to see what was happening. "Land in sight, captain!"  

And in an instant, Peter was all over Wade, laughing and jumping because he had never wanted so hard to see at least a piece of land. Wade snorted, kissing Peter's head and ruffling his hair. "You know we'll probably not arrive until tomorrow, right?"  

Peter sighed and glared at him, but he was in a very good mood and was satisfied with a single grunt. "The point is that there is land, I can go back to eating solids without having to resort to a bucket!"  

Wade let out a happier snort, and in a second he undressed Peter for another round of loving bites and devouring kisses.  

~ ° ~  

They had not set foot on the ground, when the people of Lupine had already gathered along the coast with music, gifts and heavy fur coats. Lupine was much colder than Klariono, Peter knew it would be hard to get used to it, considering that autumn was just starting and his body was already shaking with the breeze.  

As soon as Peter came down from the boat, his legs trembled and his body continued to feel the ghostly waves beneath his feet. Wade told him that it would take some time to get back to normal, then went on to introduce Peter to his people, calling him "his lover" in front of locals who did not seem to flinch with the title. More than that, they looked happy, wrapping Peter in the huge fur coats and placing crowns of dried branches on his head.  

Peter felt overwhelmed and did not know very well how to react except with a bow.  

The castle was deeper inside the forest as Wade had told him, which involved a long trip by horse and cart, but at least he would have more stability than in the open sea, and Peter could feel his stomach return to normal as the hours passed.  

Both lovers often disappeared from the eyes of others during that afternoon, escaping into the forest to appreciate their bodies whenever possible. May, Logan, and Charles ignored the escapades and kept busy with other things.  

That night they had to find a place to stay because the moon was beginning to appear high in the sky, and Charles and May needed to rest from the trip. It was on the side of a dirt road, hidden among the tall pines and other threes, that they found a tavern, made of wood and stone that radiated warmth from the inside, just as it started to rain and the clouds began to fall from the sky to settle as mist on the earth.  

"It's a very normal thing in Lupine," Wade had explained, while Peter looked around tremblingly, in Klariono there was rarely such a work of nature.  

The name of the inn was "Rock of the Forest", and a man a few years younger than May was the one in charge, who started cleaning the bar when he saw with joy who were visiting his inn and how many they were, especially since he had not received customers for a long time. "And times are hard," he had said with a hoarse tone.  

A group of the men who came with them crowded at one end of the bar, drinking with quiet determination and avoiding serious discussions about disturbing news.  

The silence of the stone fireplace, black with smoke that retained the warmth of a fire that had been extinguished for a long time, and tables that had been covered by dust cloths, were revived with the help of the innkeeper's daughter. Her name was Carmelita. She was brunette like her father and with a lovely smile like her father. She was a thin young woman, despite being five months pregnant.  

Wade insisted on helping, but the girl said that the work did her good. Once everyone was accommodated at different tables and at the bar, May brought the remaining food from the trip, and insisted on making the stew herself; although that did not stop the innkeeper and his daughter from running to the rooms and preparing each space in the best way they could manage.  

During the night, their men began to tell stories of the battle and the trip back, the lost men and the memories created. On the other hand, Wade and Peter were talking with Carmelita, who was only twenty-four years old and could swear that she was pregnant with twins.  

"My pregnancy is complicated," she told them. "A witch who one day stayed with us told me that I was very weak and would not stand the labor because they were two babies who would need all my energy to survive. My father got so angry that he did not let her stay, but I know she's right. I only fear for my father."  

Peter bit his lip. He didn't know very well what to say since many women lost their lives giving birth, as well as others for which no one gave even a copper sole, had survived without effort. "You'll be fine," Peter said, smiling to show he was being sincere. "You look strong, and those babies will give you the strength you need, I'm sure."  

Wade nodded, although he could not promise the same because he already had a very strange experience with a witch. Carmelita smiled, though not because Peter's words motivated her, but simply because she was a cheerful woman by nature.  

"Anyway," she said, looking around to make sure her father was not around. "In case I don't survive, I want to ask you to please take care of my father. He is somewhat old, and his bones get tired more easily than before. He needs care."  

Peter's throat tightened, and his gaze went to his Aunt May, thinking of what would have happened if he had not been with her after Ben's death, with nothing and no one there in Klariono. Wade noticed where Peter's attention was going and understood what the brunet was thinking, so he nodded very sincerely before addressing Carmelita. "It's a promise."  

After that Carmelita continued to smile throughout the night, telling stories about her life and asking details about Wade and Peter, the latter blushing each time the woman mentioned how lovely they looked together.  

There were men who were so drunk that they simply fell asleep at the tables or on the floor, and the innkeeper just placed furs over their backs so as not to disturb them. May was the first to go to bed in one of the rooms, the second was Charles and the third was Logan. From then on each one parted to their respective beds or tents, in the case of those who did not fit inside the inn.  

Wade and Peter wished the good-natured innkeepers good night, and then retired to their room, somewhat tired but not enough for Wade not to attack Peter the moment they closed the door, pushing him to the bed to pounce on him. Peter was beginning to think that Wade's energy was endless, although he did not complain about the attention anyway, especially with a few drinks in his system.  

Having Wade so near made Peter feel reckless, bold and willing to follow his desires wherever they led. That this man, who had won a joust against the former champion while wounded, killed men ruthlessly with the very same hands he was now tenderly stroking Peter with, was willing to cater to a simple servant made Peter's breath snag in his throat. This fierce wolf was being as gentle as a kitten, all for Peter.  

He could deny Wade nothing.  

Peter smoothed his hands along Wade's neck and shoulder. Wade's hand came up to run along Peter's side and then traveled around to his back, pulling the smaller man in closer so that their bodies were nearly flush.  

Wade brushed his nose against Peter’s, pressed their foreheads together and then angled his face in closer to drop soothing, wet kisses on Peter's mouth, their tongues hotly gliding against each other.  

Peter closed his eyes and sunk into the silky, sensual touches, every point of physical contact sparking on his body. It felt like his skin was being lit on fire from the inside.  

"I'm ready," Peter sighed, watching Wade in the faint light of the candle that was on the table next to their bed.  

The heir looked up and leaned back a little, to look at Peter directly in the eyes, looking for safety where there already was. "Are you sure?" And his tone was cautious, restricted.  

Peter nodded, raising his hand to stroke Wade's cheek, the curves of his scars seemed to dance next to the flame of the candle. "With you, I'm always sure."  

There was no need for more, Wade kissed him again as if by not doing so Peter could change his mind. But that would not happen, because he was decided. As they kissed, Peter saw Wade reach into a small tin with oil and slicked his fingers, then he stopped again to watch Peter and await his approval for a third time.  

“I want to fuck you, but it might hurt a little bit, so I'm going to take my time to open you up, yes?”  

"I trust you."  

“You will not regret it,” Wade vowed, his usual tenor voice little more than a rasp.  

Peter laughed, shaking his head in disbelief at their circumstances. “Gods, I hope."  

Wade smiled, lying down to stay in the middle of Peter's legs and ran his fingers over the furled muscle. "This part you already know."  

Peter was going to nod, but instead, he gasped when a finger was inserted into his anus and immediately Wade took Peter's dick in his mouth. That feeling was going to become his death someday, Peter was sure, especially when a man like Wade, with his shoulders and arms contracted and illuminated by the light of a simple candle, was reduced between his legs only for Peter. It was an image he would never tire of.  

A second finger found the first, and then a third, and Peter transformed into a litany of deliriums between moans and gasps, while Wade devoured every space of his body as if it were his life, before returning to the warmth of Peter's cock.  

With one last kiss to his hipbone, Wade got up to sit on his heels again, watching the worn image in front of him. Peter panted several times and glared at him. "You enjoy destroying me."  

"And you don't?"  

Peter did not answer but he smiled, and it was enough response for Wade to laugh loudly. "Turn around and come to your knees, you will feel better this way in your first time."  

Peter sighed and with trembling legs and arms, he turned to his stomach, before lifting his hips and resting his torso and knees on the mattress.  

Wade hummed behind him, a jesting note back in his voice. "Great view. I wish you could see it."  

Peter snorted, rolling his eyes though his face burned. "I’ll have to take your word for it."  

As Wade began to give him tender kisses along his nape, Peter knew he was trying to distract him from the painful pressure of his cock pressing in. Peter bit down on his lower lip to keep from crying out and took a shaky breath.  

It would have felt invasive and terrifying if it were anyone but Wade, Wade who loved him, but even that could not take away the pain of muscle stretching more than it ever had before. He could hear the man behind him mutter a string of curses as he held Peter’s hips so hard he knew they were going to be marred by purple bruises come morning.  

“Relax,” Wade told him, and he struggled to obey. Wade slipped inside a little more.  

It was a battle, but Wade had never emerged from one of those without victory. That time Peter was with him, as Wade paused when he was buried to the hilt, and Peter spent moments trying to adjust. By the time the stretch no longer stung, Peter was the first to move -a hesitant rock and a moan of pleasure, and Wade took that as an invitation to thrust once, and then twice when Peter moaned again.  

The pleasure that shook up his spine when Wade pressed that spot that robbed him of sanity, curled around each and every nerve ending, and seeped hot across his abdomen was the sweetest thing he had ever encountered.  

Red hot heat built inside him, knotting at the base of his spine then diffusing outwards into shivering shock-waves. Writhing, clamping, molten arousal spiked, making him moan, gasp, and arch against the sheets.  

He was teetering on the edge, hips flexing above thighs, pleasure blooming and rapture jolting through him.  

Peter heard Wade whispering to him, urging him onward toward the peak. Deep voice right by Peter's ear, humming explicit, possessive things. "Moan louder, Baby boy, so everyone out there knows who you belong to, who _I_ belong to," he rasped. "That the only person who makes you scream like this is _me._ "  

It was enough to instantly push him over the edge. His body twisted with tension then snapped taut. Falling into the plunge, his legs began shaking, he buried his face into the mattress, gripped the sheets until knuckles turned white, and let out an undone, raw moan.  

Peter was left trembling against the bed. Limbs quivering, chest convulsing, body filmed with moisture and too weak to do anything except pant into the air. He returned measure by measure back to reality.  

In a haze of dreamy passion, Peter felt any remaining gentleness leave Wade only to be replaced with harsh urgency. His hands began moving relentlessly, pressing hard into Peter’s flesh, his demeanor switched to dark excitement, turning him into a needy creature functioning on pure animal appetite and instinct.  

Wade's strong body was flush against him, muscles clenching. Handsome, fierce face right above Peter’s nape, as he panted against his skin with hooded eyes.  

Forearms rubbed against Peter's ribs as Wade fell apart above the smaller man, the wet slickness of his precum coating Peter's inner walls, smoothing the furious thrusting. Wade buried his face into Peter's neck, hips working hard and frantic. Peter could feel Wade's building pleasure and knew he was near orgasm.  

The heir’s face creased, shoulders shuttered and stomach convulsed as he wheezed against Peter's temple. His large body seized, muscles went rigid and he let out a muffled groan from deep in his chest as hot, thick jets of seed burst out to bury within Peter.  

Wade collapsed on top of Peter, feeling heavy and warm. Their harsh and labored breathing filled the dim, quiet room.  

After a moment, Wade pushed up and took his weight off Peter, lazily rolling over.  

They laid boneless next to each other, bodies still vibrating with the aftershocks of spent pleasure, sucking in winded breaths, trying to recover. Wade sluggishly rotated his head to look at Peter, and Peter glanced at him from the corner of his eye. They both smiled, a weak chuckle escaping through the silence until it grew into a cheerful laugh.  

Peter sighed and got up on his elbows to kiss Wade's sweaty brow, smiling against his skin. "Thank you."  

"It should be me who thanks you," Wade replied, placing an arm affectionately on Peter's lower back, and bending to kiss his temple.  

After that Peter did not remember the rest, because dream took possession of his body, and the tiredness sent him to beatitude.  

~ ° ~  

The next day was hectic. Some men got up with a hangover but did not complain when it was time for them to get ready to leave early in the morning. Ben, Blind Al, and the other two horses that came with them on the boat received a quick bath from Peter, to wash away the smell of salt water from their furs. Wade helped along with Logan to collect and cut wood for the innkeepers to have during the winter season. Charles prepared remedies for the innkeeper's joint pains, and May helped prepare the day's meal.  

The entire Rock of the Forest was clean and gleaming, and its owners were eternally grateful. Carmelita even set about making gifts for her guests, and while Peter and Wade got their horses ready to leave, the girl appeared in front of them with necklaces in her hands.  

"We don't have much to offer, but as a sign of our eternal gratitude, I wanted to make these necklaces." Carmelita raised both arms to show the jewelry. They were made with three rows of rope, and a rock as an ornament was hanging at the end, one was black with red patches, which she handed to Wade, and the other was red with blue blotches, which was for Peter. "I know it's not much, but I hope you never forget us."  

Peter smiled gratefully. For him, this piece of jewelry would be one of the most precious, because he knew what it was not to have much and Carmelita seemed to have worked hard on them. "They are beautiful, Carmelita. I will keep it forever."  

The girl smiled, rolling her eyes and shrugging. "You will have more beautiful ones, but that one combines with your personality."  

Wade smiled along with them and extended his to Peter to put it on. "Visit the castle whenever you two want," the heir said, hugging Carmelita once the collar was around his neck. "Even before your delivery, please. Charles and the breast mothers can help you the day of."  

Carmelita nodded, receiving a second hug from Peter, and as they left the inn, Peter continued to look back where Carmelita laughed with her father, who wrapped her with one of the fur coats that Logan gave them. They looked happy, and Peter really hoped that it would continue that way for a long time.  

Lupine was cold but beautiful, each section of forest was surrounded by tall pines that rose powerful in the air, and the smell of wet earth was an aroma that Peter could easily get used to. On the way, he could hear the sounds of the forest, birds, crickets, and mainly wolves. Their powerful howling was what told them they were getting closer.  

Until Peter saw it, a tall wall with the Howlett banner hanging from the top. Different towers with pointed roofs hid behind it, grayish colors on its walls, because while in Klariono the sun always touched the castle and wall that surrounded it, in Lupine the clouds came down to decorate it.  

The employees did not wait to receive them as soon as the guards opened the gates of the wall, collecting their things to take them upstairs to Peter's and May's -new- and respective rooms. Peter felt overwhelmed, surrounded by men and women who greeted and admired him without stopping, taking his measurements in clothes almost without giving him a moment to understand what was happening.  

Wade laughed at this, placing a thick coat over Peter's shoulders and wrapping his arm around him. "Let him breathe. Tonight there will be a feast and you will have an opportunity to meet him," and in that way, he pulled Peter to the castle without being disturbed by anyone else.  

"Come," Wade whispered against Peter's ear. "There are many things I want to show you from your new home."  

The road to the castle was divided into two sections, one was the corridor of the guards and the crypts, and the other was for the employees' houses. Further ahead was the armory and the courtyard, a library, the stables, the kitchen, the guest house, the maester's room, the dogs' house, and an agricultural area. And then, at the bottom, high and powerful, stood the great Castle of the Moon, decorated by a large garden behind it, which Wade had explained it was their sacred zone.  

As soon as they approached the tall oak doors of the castle with copper handles, both doors opened to give way to a large hall that suddenly came to life with the natural light that was given way between the entrance and the high arches that led to the central courtyard of the castle.  

The castle had three floors, the first housed the large banquet and dance hall, the vegetable storage rooms and the main kitchen. The second was for all the necessary rooms, and the third for the Lord chamber of meetings, with high windows so that everyone who came to strengthen a bond would realize the power with which Lupine counted.  

And Peter was just getting to know the first one, with his eyes hypnotized on the trees with black trunks and dark leaves, and the white flowers decorating the feet of each. There were benches to sit on, and a water well decorating the center.  

"When you want to relax for a bit but you're too cold to go to the forest, you can come here," Wade commented, still hugging Peter's shoulders and smiling as he looked around. Peter understood that this place, so full of magic and rain, was the true home of his lover.  

"It's beautiful," Peter conceded, watching his breath come out in fog, one day expecting to get used to the cold.  

Wade nodded, smiling at the servants who were on their path. Everyone looked happy, with sincere respect for their lords. It was a different image than Klariono, where the servants barely looked the king in the eye. 

"Down here everything is for celebration, even this central courtyard," Wade commented, walking towards the castle's rear exit. "Parties are almost never done with other houses, but sometimes we find a reason to drink among ourselves. Charles is the one who tries to come up with something as soon as he can to celebrate." 

Peter smiled, observing the halls whenever any of the wooden doors opened, finding large spaces with many tables, walls decorated by hand in each column and iron chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. That before Wade took him out of the castle through the back door. Peter watched the corridor on the second floor, going all the way around to the many rooms, the castle had three more wings, the east, west, and north, the east was for Logan's room, his private library, and the bathroom. The west was Wade's, and now it belonged to Peter as well. 

"In the north wing, there is another room that is not used. It is spacious and will soon be filled with furniture for your aunt." The doors closed behind them, and Wade led Peter down a stone path until they came across another tall wall. The castle in general, was surrounded by a huge wall, like every castle, and inside there were more walls dividing the sections. In Klariono, everything was more open. Peter would also have to get used to that labyrinth. 

Once the gate was open, Wade took a deep breath and smiled, taking Peter by the hand and directing him towards what Wade called _Lupine's greatest treasure._ "Welcome to our temple." 

Peter gasped out of breath, he will admit it for a long time, and he was sure that no matter how many years could pass, he would not get used to this place. 

It was a forest that could be seen as any other, with large trees of fruit and flora, their leaves were beginning to fall, welcoming the new season as they tried to keep their life. There were of all colors: yellow, pink, purple, white and of course green. The flowers at their feet seemed to create a bed for the trees, and the animals scampered and jumped from the branches without paying attention to the visitors. As they kept walking Peter was more than amazed, and words disappeared with each step until they reached what would now be Peter's favorite place. 

A small lake, surrounded by large stones and a small waterfall, where the sun came in to touch the water, so clear that you could see all the fish inside and the dragonflies above it. It was magical and Peter could not explain very well why. 

"In Lupine we don't have gods," Wade explained, letting go of Peter to dip his hands in the water. It was probably frozen, but Wade did not seem affected. "Here we are governed by mother nature. We respect her forests, trees, rivers, mountains, and the creatures that inhabit her, she gives us food through her lands and animals, and we reward her by taking care of her creations. It's a great deal, to be honest." 

Peter smiled, crouching down beside Wade to watch the river. He wanted to feel the water as well, but the gloves that protected his fingers from the cold were stronger. "Is that why your people see it normal for your lover to be a man?" 

Wade chuckled and shrugged his good shoulder. "In nature, there is no such thing as marriage between male and female. Such things help for procreation, but as for love and fornication, gender does not matter." 

Peter could have blushed if his cheeks and nose were not already red from the cold. "Seems reasonable." 

Wade smirked and wiped his hand against his coat. "The only battle in Lupine is between the predator and its prey. In everything else, we are quite passive." The heir stood up and went back to hug Peter by the shoulders when the brunet stood up as well. "Inside this forest there is a passage to a secret place, the place we use in case of attacks or wars." 

Peter opened his eyes wide and looked around, he had heard about it, but he thought that they were just rumors created by the houses who had lost against Lupine so as not to appear weak. _But it was true_ and Peter felt his heart racing faster at the idea. Wade laughed and shook his head, kissing Peter's temple fondly and keeping his lips warm against Peter's cold skin. 

"I'll take you there another time. It's still too early for that, and you must show yourself worthy of such a secret." Wade let go if his shoulders to take Peter by the hand, walking back to the castle. Peter understood, Wade loved him, but this forest was the secret of his people and all of Lupine, and Peter had not yet earned their respect. 

"You have a beautiful castle," Peter whispered, approaching Wade's side to warm up. "I hope I can earn their trust over time." 

Wade grinned and nodded. "You will. In so little time you have won mine and not just my trust." 

Peter laughed and shook his head, gently pushing Wade with his shoulder. "You're corny." 

"And you're a snowflake," Wade laughed loudly when Peter glared at him. "We'd better go get you woolen clothes and furs, those rags you walk on warm you up like an ice cube." 

That day, Peter memorized all the names of the servants he could remember, and the women set off to sew his new clothes. In the afternoon, he and Wade went to the new room that they would share now, a huge room the size of his old house, with a bed so big that Peter thought he would get lost in its furs, and when they made love within them, with his body recovering heat and his moans flooding the walls, Peter realized that would be the case. 

By the time of the banquet, some women came to their rooms to leave him one of his new suits, made with wool and leather, and Peter was very surprised by their hard work. Wade helped him get dressed, though he did not need help, but the heir enjoyed being able to touch his body, and Peter was not in a position to object. 

That night a great banquet was held among the guards, servants, and royalty to celebrate the union between Wade and Peter and their victory in battle. There were all kinds of meals, and although Peter was tired of broth after only being able to eat that while in the boat, that night he accepted any hot stew that could return some heat to his feet, although after an extensive dance and much wine in his system, Peter felt warmer than he had in a long time. 

"Do you want to rest?" Wade asked when he noticed Peter's eyelids fall heavy over his eyes. 

The brunet smiled and sighed, he had not realized how tired and probably drunk he was until he had managed to take a seat. "Yes, please." 

Wade chuckled and helped him to his feet, saying goodbye to everyone who was still sober enough to do so and went off to their room. Peter continued smiling, watching Wade's face among the candle lights as they climbed the stairs, he looked relaxed and happy, comfortable in his own environment. 

Wade noticed his stare and smirked shyly. "What's wrong?" 

Peter shrugged, and with what remained of his coordination, he wrapped his arms around Wade's neck and kissed him sincerely. "I'm just happy." 

Wade chuckled and wrapped Peter around the waist, walking forward carefully so as not to trip. "I'm glad you're happy, keep it that way." 

Peter snorted and sighed contentedly, his back now pressed against the door of his new room, and with Wade's arms at his sides, leaving him with no way out. Peter bit his lip and leaned forward, kissing Wade again like a man thirsty for contact, as if they had not been together all day, making love only a few hours ago. 

"Thank you for everything, Wade." 

Wade smiled and joined their foreheads, shaking his head. "Thank you, _my light within the shadows._ "


	13. The New Harvest

The first flora of the year began to bloom between the earth and dry leaves left by the winter, the crops began a new cycle, germinating the first harvest of the year, while the water of the rivers began to run more freely after being frozen for a long period. Birds sang with more enthusiasm, bees came out of their combs, and all the big animals woke up from a long sleep. 

Sunlight entered delicately through the large windows of the lord's workroom, where books and papers were stacked on the desk, the same one where Wade was sitting and signing papers that his new maester, a twenty-seven-year-old youn man who was learning the art of healing, writing and reading, had transcribed and delivered with the help of Charles, who was now getting too old to do it all himself. 

A sigh escaped Wade's mouth when he finished signing one of the pages, and noticed that there was still another mountain to finish. A knock on the door made the lord look up with the illusion of being distracted from so much work. A young boy, barely in his teens, entered with shyness and bowed. 

"Good afternoon, Lord Wade!" Another bow followed. The boy was new to his work and Wade suppressed his laughter. "There is a man of old age who wants to see you, my lord. He says he brings some potatoes and is here to pick up his medicine?" 

Wade got up almost immediately, scaring the boy in front of him. Wade cleared his throat and smiled with a nod. "Thank you, I know who he is. I'll go right away." 

The boy bowed again and left the room as fast as he came, leaving the door open. At some point, he would learn to close it behind him, today Wade was ready to leave anyway. 

The lord left the pen resting next to the ink, which he closed with a piece of cork. Wade then put on his coat and went out the door with a new spirit. He loved his reign, but being lord was exhausting and Wade preferred the outdoors. He _did_ shut the door behind him. 

Looking out the window of the stairs, Wade stared toward the courtyard, smiling at the sight of the gracious image. "Prepare hot water for the tub, please," Wade ordered one of the employees, who answered with a bow. 

Continuing his way, Wade greeted several people and went to the audience room, where a tanned man, with white hair and back somewhat hunched over the years, was waiting for him. 

"Lord Wade!" said Mr. Camacho, with a big smile that was contagious. 

"I'm glad to see you so well, Mr. Camacho. Has the medicine helped you?" Wade asked, reaching up to give him a hug and pat the man's shoulder. 

"It's always a great help," he said, nodding and coughing a little, probably the cold had affected his lungs. Wade would send his new maester to check him. "I bring you some potatoes. I know the kids like them." 

Wade nodded, taking the small sack of potatoes in his hands, carefully as if it were a jewel. They had several crops in the castle, but any gift from Mr. Camacho was received as gold. "I'll tell the cooks to prepare them in a veal pie. The kids love it." 

The man laughed, shaking his head with a loving expression. "Just like their mother." 

Wade felt his heart warm with the mention and nodded with the same affection. "They have their mother's eyes." 

The old innkeeper smiled wistfully, and Wade understood, for only a father could feel this way for a lost daughter. "That girl was strong. I'm glad she knew how to choose their guardians wisely before she died," Mr. Camacho conceded, patting Wade's arm before starting to walk back towards the exit door. "I will come to visit tomorrow, tell them I say hi." 

Wade ran to his side, despite the years, the innkeeper had the physical condition of a teenager. "Are you sure you don't want to stay to taste your potatoes in the pie?" 

Mr. Camacho dismissed him with a hand and was already getting into his cart before Wade could even try to stop him. "I will come tomorrow, I said. The crops are germinating, and I have to go and fertilize the land to plant a new harvest." 

Wade sighed and smiled. He knew he would not have a way to stop such a stubborn man. "We'll wait for you tomorrow then," he said, as the innkeeper pulled the reins and started to trot away before Wade could finish. "You better keep the promise because the kids will be waiting." 

The innkeeper raised his hand in farewell, and the sound of his horse's hooves against the ground was the only thing left after his departure. Wade snorted, shaking his head and sighing. He looked around and noticed that Logan was not there to demand that he continue with his work, because even after a year of giving the reins of Lupine to Wade, Logan still scolded him as a child. 

But since Logan was not around, Wade decided to take a break. 

Fresh air felt like a blessing, and the earth under his feet was beginning to soften. Mr. Camacho was right, it was time for a new harvest. Passing through the corridor of his guards and the weapons room, Wade reached the courtyard, where a smile was drawn on his face and he silently began to admire the scene. 

Peter laughed with complete freedom, dodging the attacks that Miles threw against his sides, while the boy who was no longer a young boy, glared at him. He was getting taller, almost reaching the same height as Peter. 

"Stop throwing attacks and think a little bit more," Peter said with a laugh, his face stained with dirt was a work of art. 

Miles let the air out of his mouth like a child in a huff, and pointed to Peter with his wooden sword. "You don't stop moving. How come you do not fall?" 

Peter opened his mouth, but Wade interrupted. "You need stability and to keep your feet firm, otherwise you will always fall." 

The brunet smiled, looking at Wade fondly as the lord winked at him. "Listen to the teacher," Peter commented, approaching to kiss Wade. 

Miles growled behind them, putting the sword aside. "Easy for you to say. My teacher makes fun of me and knocks me out whenever he can." 

Peter snorted loudly, leaving his own sword aside. "You're exaggerating." 

Miles glared at him just as a smile appeared on his face. "What are we eating tonight?" 

"Potato pie with veal," Wade said, lifting the bag of potatoes in front of them. Peter smirked knowing who it was from, and Miles sighed. 

"Sounds good. I'll go take a bath in the river." 

"Be careful!" Peter said, and Miles rolled his eyes, blushing as he walked toward the forest. 

"I'm not a child anymore, Pete. Your men will think I am because of you." 

When the boy had disappeared behind the gates and through the trees, Wade and Peter snorted, shaking their heads and walking back toward the castle. "How is he?" Peter asked, pointing to the potatoes with his head. 

"Very well, with the health and mood of a young boy," Wade replied, wrapping his arm around Peter's shoulders, and left the bag of potatoes in front of the main kitchen. "It's good to see him happy after he had been so down." 

Peter nodded, his face a painting of different emotions. Wade kissed his brow and smiled when Peter looked at him confused. "You need a bath," he whispered. 

Peter blushed, pushing him away. "Then get away from me." 

"Even stinky like this, I love you." 

"Wade!" 

Passing under the castle gate, Wade wrapped Peter around the waist with his arms, both laughing as Wade kissed the brunet's neck. One of the girls in the kitchen passed by and smiled at them with a bow. Wade stopped to give her a quick message. "Tell the cook to make potato pie with veal. I left the sack in front of the kitchen." 

The girl bowed and ran to the kitchen as Wade and Peter continued on their way to their bathroom, going up the stairs and entering the room where a silver tub was already filled with warm, steaming water and decorated with petals and aromatic fragrances. 

Between kisses, Wade began to undress Peter, who smiled against his mouth and helped him do the same with his lord's clothes. Without a coat and shirt, Peter's body continued to shudder with the cold despite the almost four years he had lived in Lupine. 

Wade started kissing Peter's freckled neck, pulling their now naked torsos together so they could share each other's heat. Peter moaned, and Wade squeezed his buttocks with both hands, biting Peter's bottom lip and groaning against his mouth. "I thought you were tired after the practice." 

Peter chuckled and shrugged, letting go of Wade's arms to pull off his pants. The lord did the same, approaching to kiss Peter's back as he did so. Peter laughed again, glancing over his shoulder and letting Wade guide him into the tub once they were both naked. 

"I'll give you a massage," Wade whispered against his lover's neck, humming against the curve. 

"I need it," Peter admitted, lifting his leg to insert it into the tub, sighing as he felt the still warm water surrounding his tired muscles. "Miles learns fast, but that means more work on my part and more bruising on my skin." 

Wade let out a hoarse rumble of laughter, kneeling on the edge of the tub, just behind Peter, and took a silver cup, filling it with water and slowly pouring it over Peter's head, wetting his brown curls and scratching his head with the fingers of his other hand. Peter sighed gratefully, and let his head fall back so that Wade could continue. 

"You're lucky to be in the courtyard," Wade whispered, taking the bar of soap to lather his hands and then bury them again between the curls. "In the meantime, I get so bored up there by myself." 

Peter chuckled and looked at him with one eye while he kept the other closed. "But you are an excellent lord, nobody has complained because you do an almost perfect job." 

Wade hummed and refilled the silver cup to wash the soap off Peter's head. "If they complained I would cut off their heads." 

Peter let out a mocking snort, patting the arm with which Wade hugged him by the shoulders and kissed his neck again. "Where are the children?" 

"Studying with Aunt May," Wade whispered against his jaw, sliding his hand over Peter's belly until he reached his cock. 

Peter's breath was cut short and Wade smirked while biting his ear. "They will not come for _a long time_ , and we need that time for ourselves." 

Peter chuckled and let out a sigh. "You should not say that. It makes us sound like bad parents." 

"All parents need a break once in a while." 

They both laughed breathly, until another groan that escaped Peter's mouth interrupted the teasing when Wade wrapped Peter's cock in his fist. "I missed you." 

"We see each other every morning and night, Wade." Peter arched against his hand and bit his lip, closing his eyes and letting himself be carried away by the sensations. 

Wade hummed against his cheek, kissing him there as he lowered his other hand to play against Peter's pink entrance, who smiled even with his eyes closed. "I miss you anyway," Wade continued, licking from Peter's earlobe to his lips, where the brunet turned his head slightly to receive him in a heated kiss. "Who wouldn't miss you?" 

Peter moaned louder when two of Wade's calloused fingers entered his hole, curling them to squeeze just where he knew would cause Peter to scream. "Fuck, Wade... yes, right there!" 

"Hmm," Wade kept kissing him, this time behind the shell of Peter's ear, watching the water turn into small waves when Peter unconsciously lifted his hip. "You look delicious, Baby boy." 

Peter chuckled, biting his lip and gasping almost instantly. "I'm going to come and you have not even entered the tub." 

"It's all good. You can come twice," Wade moaned, brushing his cheek against Peter's and circling the tip of his cock with his thumb, causing a whimper in Peter, who tried to close his legs, but Wade's arms did not allow him, pushing them apart with his elbows while Peter panted and arched against his touch. 

"Wade!" Peter groaned but did not try to stop the lord, for Peter's arms remained at his sides. "Oh, Gods." 

"Shh," Wade whispered, his chin on Peter's shoulder and moving his hand faster, adding a third finger until Peter yelled his release, panting against the tub and shivering a little all over his body. 

"You're going to kill me someday," Peter whispered, making Wade laugh against his neck. 

"Then we will die together." 

Peter grinned at that, turning his head to look at him and sitting up straight to make some space. "Come here." 

Wade sighed in love, smiling at the image of Peter with his wet hair, glistening skin, and relaxed expression. Then he stood up and slowly got into the tub, sighing for the second time when he was fully seated in the warm water. "It feels good." 

"Hmm." Peter approached Wade, taking his cock now completely hard in his hands, causing a hiss from the lord. " _You_ feel very good." 

Wade snorted, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I deserve it." 

Peter smiled, straddling his lap slowly and not quite sitting down, just keeping Wade's cock in his hand right under his ass. Peter then leaned down, his lips just above Wade's. "What do you want, Wade?" 

Wade opened his eyes and glared at him. "You know what I want." 

Peter bit his lip to keep from laughing and leaned down to kiss Wade with an open mouth, moaning against his lips and continuing his affection around his face. "I want you to tell me." 

"You're naughty, my love," Wade said, raising his hands to press Peter's cheeks between his hands. 

"Hey!" Peter groaned, glaring at him. 

Wade smiled, leaning toward Peter until the brunet had to put his empty hand against Wade's chest so he would not fall back. "I want you," Wade muttered, looking Peter in the eyes and putting their foreheads together. "I want to fuck you until you can no longer think sanely, when the only word that comes out of your mouth is my name," Wade lowered his head, and wrapping Peter around the waist, he pulled him close to him, lifting him a little until his nipple ended up inside Wade's mouth. "I want you to moan with force so that my thoughts are flooded only with your presence." 

"Mm Wade," Peter moaned, raising Wade's head to kiss the lord with passion. 

"Come on, Pete. Take control." 

Peter smiled against his mouth, aligning Wade's cock back against his entrance and pushing it in slowly, sitting almost completely with his insides clenched, before getting back up almost to the tip, and repeating the movement all over again. Wade moaned, dropping his head against Peter's chest to suck and bite on his nipples. 

Peter moaned, taking Wade's head with his hands to pull him away and look him in the eye, while his hips continued to rise and fall, Wade's cock brushing against his sweet spot and lighting stars within Peter. "You like that?" Peter asked, his hands massaging Wade's scalp. 

"How would I not?" Wade growled, moving his head a little to get Peter's thumb in his mouth and bite it. Peter laughed and shook his head, joining their foreheads and keeping his thumb in Wade's mouth as the lord wet it with his tongue. 

"It is not fair to answer with another question." A gasp escaped his mouth when Wade raised his hip hard. 

"I love it," Wade groaned, placing his hands on Peter's hip to bury his fingers in his flesh. 

Peter smiled and leaned back, placing both hands on Wade's knees to help him get up and down again, his cock peeking out of the water every time he went up. It was hard again and Wade wished he could suck it until it was empty. 

"Fuck, Pete, you look so good I could devour you." 

Peter laughed breathily, looking Wade in the eye. "Same thing here." 

Both moaned at the same time, feeling their bodies burn and their orgasm grow until they reached culmination. Peter bit his lip, and Wade took his dick in his hand to help him come again, to which Peter gasped and began to rise and fall faster, opening his mouth without saying anything or emitting any sound, until his legs trembled and the water stained over his crotch. 

Seeing this, Wade knew that he would not last long, and hugging Peter against his chest, the Lord pulled his cock from his lover, and began to move his fist quickly, breathing heavily against Peter's shoulder, who was kissing Wade behind the ear and stroking his head. "Come on Wade, I want to see you." 

"Ah, shit!" contracting his toes and lifting his knees out of the water, Wade came into the tub, staining it a second time. 

So they stayed a moment, hugging each other in the water that was no longer clear, and recovering their agitated breaths. Then they both laughed silently, and with a short kiss, they stood up and left the tub to dry themselves together, putting on their nightgowns and going back to their room to take a little nap before dinner. 

Just when both fell exhausted on their bed and took shelter inside the fur, two small knocks were heard on the door. Peter turned his gaze to Wade and Wade turned his own to Peter, both smiling. 

"They're here," Wade sighed, standing up to go to the door and open it with a loving smile. 

Two little three-year-olds were in front of the door. The boy, a little less tanned than his sister, with brown hair and big eyes of the same color, which were red from having been crying. Just then, he was rubbing them with his tiny hands. The little girl beside him, brunette, brown eyes and black curly hair, was the living image of her mother. She was looking at Wade with determination as if wanting to show that she was braver than her brother and didn't cry. 

"Hey, bugs, I thought you were learning letters. What happened to Ben?" 

Benjamin looked up at his father, with his little lower lip pulled out in a pout, which started to tremble just as Wade spoke to him, and let out a whimper before jumping into his father's arms to cry more freely. Wade dropped to one knee and received him in a hug, giving him a warm kiss on the head. 

"Hi, Ellie Belly. Are you alright?" 

Ellie nodded, looking at her brother with some concern and jealousy, but trying to hide it with her hands on her waist. "Yesh, Ben starred crying when May said the leshon was overr." 

Wade kissed her on the temple, lifting her up beside her brother to peek through the door and find May on the other side. "Hello, my dearest May. Did they behave well?" 

"They always do," May said with a chuckle, stroking Ben's wet cheek. The boy had his thumb in his mouth and his head resting on his father's shoulder. "I will go and get ready before dinner, you guys go and have some rest." 

"You too, May." 

"We love you, Aunt May!" Peter yelled from the bed. 

May laughed and shook her head, and continued her way to the north wing. "I love you too." 

Wade smiled and closed the door once inside the room, walking to the bed to put Ellie down. The girl stumbled upon the furs and laid down next to Peter, telling him everything she had learned with May, stroking Peter's face as she did so, and her father would occasionally catch Ellie's hand to kiss her tiny palm as he listened to what the girl had to say. 

Ben, for his part, continued clinging to Wade, sobbing and hiccuping once the crying had stopped, and with his little hand playing with the necklace that Carmelita had given Wade a few years ago. 

"Are you better now, bug?" Wade asked, stroking his back. 

Ben nodded, taking Wade's earlobe between the small fingers of his other hand as he liked to do to calm himself. Wade smiled at this, kissing his head and laying down next to his daughter and lover, the same man that was unconsciously beginning to fall asleep while trying to listen to everything Ellie had to say. 

"Daddy, can we go practish with the wood swords tomowo?" Ellie asked, and since Peter's answer was not too coherent, the girl turned her attention back to Wade, hopefulness radiating from her eyes. 

Wade chuckled and nodded, stroking his daughter's cheek. "Of course we can, belly."

 

**~ Fin ~**

 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for accompanying me on this journey, when I started writing this fic I had not thought it would be so long but it turned out to be that way haha
> 
> I'm happy, and I hope you liked the result as well (which ended in a happy tone of course) <3 I wish you all tons of happiness!
> 
> ( **[You can find the pic here.](https://kari-vader.tumblr.com/post/178023054778/milk-vetch-peter-and-wade-with-the-twins-3)** )


End file.
